LOOKING    FORWARD 


OK 


The  Storv  of  an -American  Farm. 


BY 


JOHN     R.    ROGERS. 


SPIKF.     PTRLISHTXO    <"'OM1\NY 


1898 


—Copyrighted. — 
All  rights  roserved. 


Stack 
Annex 


I.)  H  I)  I  CAT  I  ON. 


I  dedicate  this  book  to  the  woman    who   never   lost   faith 
in  me — my  wife. 

THE  AUTHOR, 


I'  R  K  I-  A  C  K 


This  Story  of  an  American  Farm  first  appeared  in  1889 
a.s  a  serial  in  the  columns  of  The  h'diisas  (  \>ninit>nci\  then 
published  at  Newton,  Kansas,  under  the  management  of  the 
\\-riter.  Recently  it  has  been  revised  and  partly  rewritten 
without,  however,  changing  the  design  and  arrangement  <>l 
the  book,  or  the  character  of  the  narrative,  which,  as  mav  be 
surmised,  is  largely  drawn  from  actual  experiences  among 
the  farmers  of  Kansas. 

JOHN   R. 
i  )i.VMi'iA,  Washington. 

January  i5th,  1898. 


CHAPTER. 

I.  THE  FARMEI.'  AND  His  FAMILY 

II.  MARY  (r, RAFTON  ,7 

IN.  \\"n<>   M  \KF.TH  THEM  TO  DIFFER  24 

IV.  MONEY   ANSWERETH  AI.I.    THINGS  ^ 

\".  LEAVING   HOME  4,, 

\'I.  FACING    \   FROWNING;   WORLD      -  ^i 

VII.  LIFE'S  TRIALS  ^,s 

\  III.  BRANCHTON  55 

IX.  THE  LAWYER  77 

X.  (Jl'ESTIoNS    AND    ANSWERS   -  84 

XI.  MARY  AT   HOME      -  101 

XII.  MR.   KLI.F.RY   IN  TROTBI.K  us 

XIII.  CARE  AND  COTNSEI.  129 

XIV.  LIBERTY   FOR  THE  TOILERS  141 
XV.  SORROW                                                  .         _       j  {J4 

XVI.  ORIEF                    -  i6s 

XVII.  BREAKING  UP                                     -  172 

XVIII.  THE  STR ANGER  182 

XIX.  THE  STTDENT    \ND  THE    FARMER  190 

XX.  THE  NEW  HOME  205 

XXI.  (ii.iMi'SEs  OK  CHARACTER  219 


CONTENT  S— Continued. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXII.  PLAINYILLK  PF.OIM.F.  224 

XXIII.  THE  CONFLICT  <>F  INTKRKSTS  239 

XXI\'.  DKSTI-XV  249 

XXV.  THE   ORPHANS  256 

XXVI.  THK  CONFLICT  CONTINTF.S  270 

XXVII.  THK  NK\V  CONVERT  277 

XXVIII.  Niri'KD  IN  THK   Hrn  295 

XXIX.  A  NEW  DEAL  310 

XXX.  CONCLUSION  3 1 8 


*sm 

"^L  ' '',  , 


LOOKING  FORWARD, 


OR 


Story  of  ar\  flnqencari  Farrr\. 


"For,  brother,  men 

Can  counsel,  and  speak  comfort  to  that  grief 
Which  they  themselves  not  feel ;   but,  tasting  it 
Their  counsel  turns  to  passion,  which  before 
Would  give  preceptial  medicine  to  rage." 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    FARMER    AND    HIS    FAMILY. 

OTHER,  do  you  think  I  ought  to  go? 
Oh  I  hope  I  can." 

"  Why  Mary,  you  know  as  well 
as  I  that  all  depends  upon  the  crops 
and  the  weather.  Your  father  wishes 
you  to  go  and  if  it  is  possible  to  raise 
the  money  necessary  to  send  you, 
you  will  certainly  be  sent,  but  it  is 
so  uncertain  about  the  crops." 

Mrs.  Grafton  sighed  as  she  said  this,  for  she  well 
remembered  how  often  her  hopes  had  been  raised,  only  to 
be  destroyed  by  the  failure  of  the  crops  upon  which  the 
family  depended  for  a  living. 

The  daughter  was  a  sweet  faced,  brown  haired  girl, 
apparently  about  sixteen  years  of  age  ;  the  mother  a  care- 


IO  LOOKING    FOWARD. 

worn  woman  of  forty,  with  a  refined  and  intelligent  face, 
bearing  the  marks  of  a  faded  yonth  which  evidently  had  not 
been  without  personal  attractions. 

Mrs.  Grafton  was  a  farmer's  wife  and  bore  the  imprint 
of  her  class.  Hard  work,  care  and  wearying  reoponsibilities 
of  her  position  had  caused  her  to  lose  the  light  hearted 
gaiety  which  had  been  a  prominent  trait  in  her  character  as 
a  girl,  while  in  its  place  there  now  appeared  a  chastened 
and  somewhat  constrained  cheerfulness  which,  somehow, 
gave  the  beholder  the  impression  that  tears  might  readily 
flow  from  her  eyes  upon  slight  provocation.  "  A  sweet 
woman  who  has  seen  trouble,"  came  almost  involuntarily  to 
the  mind  of  the  beholder  on  first  meeting  her.  The  daugh 
ter,  as  became  her  youth,  was  yet  free  from  the  marks  of 
that  care  which  destroys  so  much  of  the  life  pleasure  of  and 
so  early  gives  to  most  Americans  that  sorrowful  expression, 
seen  when  the  countenance  is  in  repose,  startling  even  to 
those  closely  connected,  if  unexpectedly  encountered. 

Mary  was  a  pleasant  faced  girl  of  about  the  usual 
height.  Her  figure  was  trim  and  shapely  and  her  full 
brown  eyes  glistened  with  a  light  which  betokened  intelli 
gence  and  vivacity.  She  was  the  daughter  of  a  farmer  in 
humble  circumstances,  burdened  with  debt  and  struggling 
wearily  along  the  path  of  life,  who  yet  cherished  for  his 
daughter  the  highest  asperations.  Nothing,  indeed,  seemed 
to  Mr.  Grafton  too  much  to  hope  for  Mary,  and  in  pursu 
ance  of  his  design  of  giving  her  the  best  educational  fac 
ilities  possible,  she  had  been  encouraged  to  think  of  leav 
ing  home  to  attend  a  superior  school  which  was  located 
in  a  neighboring  town. 

Mr.  Grafton  was  himself  a  well  informed  man,  having 
in  his  youth  attended  the  higher  schools  attainable  in  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  his  early  home  and  these  studies 
having  been  followed  through  life  by  an  earnest  endeavor  to 
inform  himself  at  every  opportunity.  He  had  been  an  om 
nivorous  reader  and,  being  possessed  of  a  good  memory  and 
endowed  by  nature  with  a  vivid  imagination,  his  descrip- 


LOOKING    FORWARD.  II 

tions  of  what  lie  had  read  were  eagerly  listened  to,  and 
he  had  thus  easily  influenced  his  daughter  in  her  tastes  and 
in  her  choice  of  books.  Unconsciously  to  herself  her 
thoughts  and  aspirations  had  been  directed  toward  a  higher 
education  than  seemed  possible  at  home,  although,  thanks 
to  her  father  she  had  already  advanced  much  farther  in  gen 
eral  literature  than  is  usual  with  country  girls  of  her  age. 

Mr.  Grafton  well  knew  that  as  a  pupil  in  an  educational 
institution  she  would  acquire  more  from  her  surroundings 
and  the  minds  with  which  she  came  in  contact,  than  from 
the  books  which  she  might  study.  At  best,  the  theories  and 
facts  accumulated  there,  form  only  the  tools  with  which  fu 
ture  work  may  be  done. 

Fortunate  was  it  for  Mary  that  her  parents  possessed 
the  qualifications  which  distinguished  them.  Mrs.  Grafton's 
gentle  manner  and  retiring  disposition  was  yet  tempered  by 
ii  firm  and  unwavering  advocacy  of  whatever  she  regarded  as 
lovely  in  character  or  elevating  in  tendency.  Mary  was  the 
eldest  child  and  the  only  daughter;  a  younger  brother,  a 
mere  child,  completing  the  family. 

Mr.  Grafton  had  emigrated  to  Kansas  from  Ohio  some 
ten  years  previous  to  the  opening  of  our  story.  He  had 
been  engaged  there,  in  one  of  the  towns  of  that  state  in  mer 
cantile  business.  The  failure  of  a  friend  whom  he  had 
heavily  endorsed  at  one  of  the  banks,  occurring  at  a  critical 
time  in  his  affairs  caused  his  own  business  overthrow.  But 
he  was  comparatively  young,  and  having  been  himself  a 
farmer's  son,  his  thoughts  seemed  irresistably  turned  toward 
the  life  to  which  he  now  looked  back  with  regret. 

A  change  must  be  made;  that  was  sure,  and  gathering 
up  the  remnant  of  his  means  he  came  to  Kansas  and  bought 
the  farm  upon  which  he  now  resided.  He  was  a  grave  and 
thoughtful  man  possessed  of  great  depth  of  feeling,  which 
however  was  not  to  be  noted  on  the  surface.  For  his  family 
he  had  the  sincerest  affection,  which  it  is  needless  to  say  was 
full}-  returned. 

Mrs.  Grafton  deeply  sympathized  with  her  daughter  in 


12  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

her  desire  for  an  education  and  intellectual  advancement  and 
yet,  mother-like,  feared  to  have  her  darling  leave  her,  even 
for  so  short  a  time. 

While  mother  and  daughter  were  still  engaged  in  dis 
cussing  the  probabilities  regarding  the  wheat  crop  upon 
which  in  large  measure  would  depend  the  ability  of  the 
family  to  send  her  away,  Mr.  Grafton  came  hurriedly  into 
the  house  and  said: 

"  It  is  going  to  storm  mother." 

"  Why  so  it  is,"  said  she,  hastily  looking  out  of  the 
window.  "  Come  Mary,  you  must  help  me  get  the  chickens 
safely  into  the  coop,  and  we  can  talk  about  going  away  at 
another  time." 

Mr.  Grafton  went  out  to  make  everything  fast  about  the 
stables  and  mother  and  daughter  hastily  caught  up  the 
smaller  chickens  in  their  aprons  and  drove  the  larger  ones, 
with  the  bustling  hens,  before  them  to  their  place  of  refuge. 

Before  they  could  finish  their  errand  the  rain,  accom 
panied  by  a  fierce  looking  cloud  and  a  heavy  wind  was  upon 
them.  Running  hastily  to  the  house  they  managed  to  get 
inside  the  door  just  as  the  heavily  charged  cloud  burst  upon 
them  with  all  its  fury.  The  lightning  with  its  blinding 
glare,  a  furious  wind  which  drove  the  rain  up  under  the 
shingles  and  fairly  shook  the  little  cottage  with  its  fury,  ac 
companied  by  peal  upon  peal  of  thunder  caused  all  thoughts 
of  anything  but  the  violence  of  the  storm  to  leave  them. 

A  moment  later  Mr.  Grafton  rushed  in,  wet  to  the  skin, 
and  amid  the  noise  and  roar  of  the  storm,  the  voice  of  a 
child,  crying  with  fear,  came  from  the  next  room.  "  Poor 
Charley!"  came  simultaneously  from  all  three,  just  as  the 
little  fellow  threw  open  the  door  and  ran  sobbing  to  his 
mother  for  protection.  He  had  been  asleep  in  an  inner 
room  and  wakened  by  the  storm,  at  once  sought  that  won 
derful  refuge — a  mother's  arms. 

The  storm  ceased  almost  as  suddenly  as  it  came.  The 
sun  soon  shone  out  and  the  family  went  out  to  see  how 
much  destruction  had  been  wrought.  Mrs.  Grafton,  however, 


LOOKING    FORWARD.  13 

returned  with  a  box  full  of  half  drowned  chickens,  which  she 
placed  under  the  kitchen  stove,  that  the  warmth  of  the  fire 
might  revive  the  feeble  spark  of  life  which  barely  fluttered 
in  their  naked  and  chilled  bodies.  The  force  of  the  wind 
had  been  so  great  that  although  the  large  ha}'  stack 
containing  Mr.  Grafton's  entire  stock  of  hay,  had  been 
crossed  at  top  by  wires  attached  to  heavy  stones  at  the  side, 
its  top  had  been  blown  off  by  the  wind  and  the  hay  wet  to 
the  center.  Mr.  Grafton  made  the  circuit  of  his  wheat  field, 
and  found  that  while  the  growing  wheat  was  much  of  it  felled 
flat  to  the  earth  by  the  violence  of  the  wind  and  rain,  yet  as 
it  had  not  advanced  far  enough  to  make  a  falling  down  final, 
no  great  damage  had  been  done.  It  was  yet  green  and 
would  in  a  day  or  two  resume  its  upright  position.  Feeling 
thankful  that  he  had  escaped  a  visitation  of  hail  which  might 
have  pounded  his  crops  into  the  ground,  he  slowly  made  his 
way  to  the  house. 

As  usual,  the  storm  had  come  up  towards  the  close  of 
the  afternoon,  and  night  now  began  to  fall.  Mr.  Grafton 
having  only  himself  to  depend  upon  in  the  work  of  the  farm; 
and  his  wife  insisting  that  she  "would  just  as  soon  milk  as 
not;"  Mary  and  herself  had  this  homely  duty  in  charge.  Mr. 
Grafton  busied  himself  with  the  horses,  fed  the  squealing 
pigs,  helped  in  separating  the  cows  and  calves,  made  all  snug 
for  the  night,  and  only  as  it  became  too  dark  to  see  did  he 
retreat  in  doors,  where  "  mother, "  as  he  affectionately  called 
her,  was  busy  in  quieting  little  Charley,  who  was  fretful  and 
sleepy,  and  at  the  same  time  endeavoring  to  put  away  the 
milk  in  the  cellar  and  sweep  out  the  water,  which  had  been 
blown,  by  the  violence  of  the  storm,  under  the  door  of  the 
kitchen.  Mary  employed  herself  in  getting  supper  and 
talking  to  her  father,  as  he  sat  near  the  stove,  at  which  she 
was  at  work,  of  the  damage  done  to  the  wheat. 

"  Will  it  hurt  it  much,  father,  do  you  think  ?"  said  she. 

"  Why  no,  I  hope  not,"  he  replied.  "  Still  all  is  un 
certain  and  there  are  yet  many  chances  for  loss." 

"  If  we  cannot  raise   the   money   for   you,    Molly,  this 


14  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

year,  we  will  try  to  do  so  next,  and  you  will  only  be  seven 
teen  then." 

"  Oh  dear  !"  she  sighed ;  "  the  very  idea  of  putting  off 
another  whole  year  what  I  have  looked  forward  to  so 
anxiously,  is  so  disheartening." 

"  I  know  it  is,  and  we  will  hope  for  the  best,  but  you 
must  not  set  your  heart  upon  going  so  strongly  as  to  be 
unable  to  bear  the  disappointment  of  a  failure  of  our  plans." 

Supper  was  now  ready,  and  although  it  was  nearly 
nine  o'clock,  the  family  sat  down  to  the  evening  meal  at  the 
earliest  possible  moment  at  which  it  could  have  been  made 
ready.  Before  it  was  ended,  little  Charley  was  fast  asleep 
in  his  weary  mother's  arms  and  although  it  was  very  late, 
the  dishes  were  yet  to  be  washed  and  put  away.  When  all 
was  done  and  the  family  sought  repose,  it  was  with  aching 
bones  and  weary  hearts,  filled  with  nameless  forebodings  of 
possible  misfortune  in  store. 


LOOKING    FORWARD.  17 

CHAPTER    II. 

MARY     GRAFTON. 

ORNING  found  the  Graftons 
early  astir.  And  as  the  air, 
refreshed  by  the  shower  of  the 
previous  evening,  was  most  de 
lightfully  invigorating,  laden 
as  it  was,  with  the  odor  of  veg 
etation  springing  into  life,  they 
^cheerfully  and  hopefully  began  again 
P>^  their  daily  round  of  duties.  After 
feeding  the  animals,  Mr.  Grafton  could 
not  refrain  from  taking  a  hasty  look  at 
the  wheat  field,  the  boundaries  of  which  were  not  far  dist 
ant  from  the  stables.  The  wheat  was  still  very  largely  flat 
upon  the  surface  of  the  ground,  but  a  close  examination 
convinced  him  that  it  was  uninjured  by  the  rough  treatment 
it  had  received.  Each  blade  glistened  with  moisture  in  the 
rays  of  the  rising  sun  and  as  the  slight  breeze  of  the  early 
morning  caused  it  to  flutter  gently,  for  a  moment  there 
came  over  him  a  sense  of  the  beauty  and  loveliness  of  na 
ture,  causing  his  heart  to  rise  in  thankfulness  to  the  great 
and  incomprehensible  source  of  the  world  of  beauty  spread 
out  before  him. 

Just  then  he  heard  little  Charlie  calling  him,  at  the 
stable,  where  he  had  been  sent  to  summon  his  father  to  the 
morning  meal. 

"Here  I  am  Charlie,"  said  he,  as  the  little  fellow  came 
into  sight,  in  the  search. 

"Mamma  say  dinner  weady,  Pa." 

"  \Vell  I  am  ready  too,"  said  he.  "What  has  she  got 
for  us." 

"Oh  mos'  eversing,  I  dess." 

Taking  him  in  his  arms  Mr.  Grafton  walked  slowly 
towards  the  house,  amusing  himself  meantime  by  talking  to 
the  child,  whose  opening  mind  was  eagerly  seeking  to  know 
the  reason  for  all  which  met  his  wondering  gaze. 


i8 


LOOKING    FORWARD. 


"What  made  the  lark  sing  ?  and  why  had  he  a  yellow 
breast?  Was  he  glad?  Did  birds  sing  when  they  were 
glad  ?  Was  that  what  made  Mary  sing  ?  Did  God  like 
little  birds  ?  and  if  a  b-a-d  man  shot  the  little  bird  would 
God  be  sorry  ?"  And  finally,  "What  made  mensbebad?" 
Mr.  Graftoii  could  not  answer,  and  he  realized  that  the 
child,  who  was  just  learning  to  talk,  had  already  propounded 
the  question  of  the  origin  of  evil,  which  staggers  the  mind 
of  the  philosopher. 

One  thing  distinguished  the  Graftons ;  as  the  family 
met  around  the  table,  whether  well  or  scantily  spread,  each 
strove  to  make  it  a  season  of  light  and  innocent  gaiety. 
Whatever  of  disquiet  might  be  weighing  upon  them,  it  was 
thrown  off  and  each  endeavored  to  bring  something  to  the 
common  fund  of  enjoyment.  This,  which  had  become  a  habit 
with  them,  had  unconsciously  become  not  only  a  source  of 
pleasure,  but  also  served  to  draw  the  members  of  the  little 
family  more  closely  together  in  thought  and  feeling. 

Seated  about  the  breakfast  table,  little  Charlie  began  to 
tell  his  mother  of  the  "buful"  little  bird  and  how  nicely  it 
sang.  "Oh!"  said  Mrs.  Grafton,  "that  puts  me  in  mind  of 
one  of  Charlie's  speeches  yesterday  morning.  We  were  out 
in  the  garden  and  I  was  planting  some  seeds  and  had  for 
gotten  him  for  a  moment,  when  I  found  that  he  had  stuck 
a  feather  in  the  ground,  which  he  had  picked  up.  and 

smoothing  the  dirt  carefully 
around  its  base  he  said:  'Now 
see,  Mamma,  it  will  grow  up 
a  hen,  won't  it?'" 

All  laughed  good-naturedly 
at  Charlie  and  his  "hen/' 
while  the  child  ap 
peared  in  no  wise 
cast  down  at  what 
now  seemed  the  pro 
bable  failure  of  his 
crop. 


LOOKING    FORWARD.  19 

"  Mary  you  must  go  up  to  town  and  get  some  grocer 
ies,"  said  Mrs.  Grafton. 

"  I  did  not  know  that  we  were  out  of  coffee  until  this 
morning,  and  there  are  some  other  things  that  we  must 
have." 

"I  would  go,"  said  Mr.  Grafton,  "but  I  must  finish  cul 
tivating  the  north  field." 

"O!  I  will  go,"  said  Mary,  "I  can  ride  old  Jim  and  that 
will  leave  father  the  good  team  to  work  with. 

Thus  it  was  arranged  that  Mary  should  have  the  side 
saddle  placed  upon  a  large  old  horse  which  had  long  been 
the  property  of  the  family  and  was  now  only  occasionally 
called  upon  to  perform  a  portion  of  the  work  of  the  farm. 

After  breakfast  Mr.  Grafton  saddled  the  old  horse  and 
brought  him  to  the  door  where  Mary  was  ready  to  mount. 
Mr.  Grafton  helped  his  daughter  into  the  saddle  and  Mrs. 
Grafton  stood  near  with  a  basket  containing  some  choice 
butter  which  was  to  be  carried  to  a  lady  in  town,  who  had 
requested  it  sent  upon  the  first  opportunity. 

The  big  old  horse  made  but  a  sorry  mount  for  so  fair  a 
burden,  and  as  Mr.  Grafton  assisted  in  handing  up  the 
basket  and  looking  to  the  security  of  the  various  straps  and 
buckles  he  sighed  as  he  realized  how  rough  and  uncouth  a 
figure  the  old  horse  and  rather  shabbily  dressed  girl,  would 
make  in  the  eyes  of  the  fastidious.  As  he  placed  the  little 
shoe  in  the  stirrup  and  noted  the  rough  and  well-worn 
leather,  a  suspicious  dimness  came  into  his  eyes  as  he  felt 
how  little  he  was  able  to  assist  in  the  training  of  one  for 
whom  he  thought  nothing  too  good. 

Mary  saw  nothing  of  this ;  she  was  a  country  girl,  un 
spoiled  by  the  fashionable  follies  of  the  day,  and  while  she 
dearly  loved  beauty  and  beautiful  things,  she  was  yet  able 
to  put  away  all  thoughts  of  what  she  knew  she  could  not 
obtain. 

Old  Jim  was  honest  and  true  and  gravely  jogged  along. 
The  morning  air  was  like  wine  to  Mary's  naturally  joyous 
spirit,  and  she  hummed  softly  to  herself  the  strains  of  the 


2O  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

ballads  she  loved,  until  almost  before  she  thought  it  possible 
she  \vas  at  the  hitching  rack  in  town  where  she  had  been 
told  to  leave  her  horse,  while  she  busied  herself  with  the 
business  of  the  morning. 

Plainville  was  a  little  town  of  some  500  inhabitants. 
It  had  a  railway  station  and  boasted  of  a  dozen  stores,  a 
bank,  a  grist  mill,  two  or  three  churches  and  the  usual 
amount  of  scandal  and  jealousy.  People  of  all  kinds  were 
there  ;  some  good,  a  few  bad,  and  many  quite  indifferent. 
It  was  an  ordinary  village,  neither  town  nor  country,  with 
out  the  advantages  of  either,  and  having  some  of  the  evils 
of  both. 

As  Mary  drew  near  the  rack,  which  was  just  at  the 
edge  of  the  sidewalk  and  near  the  store  she  intended  patron 
izing,  she  saw  among  the  loungers  standing  near,  the 
swaggering  form  of  John  Busteed,  the  worthless  son  of  the 
wealthy  man  of  the  village.  Mary  had  often,  with  her 
mother,  visited  at  several  residences  in  the  town  and  knew 
many  of  the  people.  Of  Busteed  she  knew  enough  to 
despise  him. 

Seeing  that  she  intended  stopping,  John  came  forward 
and  proffered  his  assistance  in  helping  her  to  dismount. 
This  she  instantly  determined  to  prevent. 

"  I  believe,  sir,"  said  she,  "  that  I  do  not  need  your 
assistance;  Mr.  Weldon  will  you  please  take  my  basket  a 
moment  ?" 

"  Why  certainly,  certainly  I  will,  Miss  Mary,"  said 
Weldon. 

John  colored  with  anger  and  slunk  away,  to  meet  the 
derisive  winks  and  nods  of  the  bystanders. 

As  soon  as  relieved  of  the  heavy  basket,  Mary  sprang 
lightly  to  the  ground  and  tied  old  Jim  in  a  way  that  con 
vinced  the  onlookers  that  she  had  often  done  the  like 
before. 

Mr.  Weldon  was  the  village  blacksmith,  a  man  of 
vigorous  frame  and  speech,  who,  though  now  growing  old, 
did  not  hesitate,  if  need  be,  to  back  up  his  rather  free 


LOOKING    FORWARD.  21 

way  of  speaking,  with  muscular  force.  As  this  was  under 
stood  to  be  his  way,  from  traditional  reports  of  a  former 
time,  and  as  his  manner  gave  promise,  upon  occasion,  of 
an  instant  "falling  from  grace,"  "Uncle  Bill,"  as  he  was 
familiarly  called,  was  allowed  to  do  and  say  pretty  much  as 
he  pleased. 

Mary  pinned  her  riding  skirt  to  the  saddle  and  taking 
the  basket  from  Uncle  Bill,  at  once  sought  the  home  of 
the  lady  to  whom  the  butter  had  been  sent. 

She  had  gone  but  a  short  distance  when  one  of  the 
loafers  spoke  up: 

"  Well,  John,  you  got  the  mitten  that  time." 

"  G — d  d — n  the  little  minx,  I'll  get  even  with  her  for 
that.  I  wouldn't  a  cared  if  it  hadn't  a  been  for  this  crowd 
a  standing  around." 

"Pooh!  John,  she  is  too  smart  for  the  likes  of  you." 

"  Well  now,"  said  John,  with  a  meaning  leer,  "I've 
got  even  with  girls  just  as  smart  as  she  is,  afore  now." 

"You'd  better  make  your  peace  with  God,  if  you  harm 
<  a-«  >rge  Grafton's  girl,"  said  Uncle  Bill. 

"  Who's  George  Grafton?  He  aint  nobody.  Just  one 
of  them  poor  farmers  that  you  can  buy  for  ten  dollars  a 
head." 

"  George  Grafton  is  what  you  never  can  be — a  man — 
and  if  men  were  selling  for  ten  cents  a  head  you  couldn't 
buy  the  little  finger  of  a  man,  if  it  wasn't  for  your  dad  - 
money.  Grafton  is  a  quiet  man,  but  that  girl  is  like  the 
apple  of  yer  eye  to  him  and  if  he  needs  any  help — why  he 
can  get  it — that's  all." 

A  chuckle  of  endorsement  of  Uncle  Bill's  little  speech 
went  round  just  as  the  elder  Busteed  approached,  who  was 
gradually  made  aware  of  what  had  occurred. 

"  George  Grafton  is  bringing"  up  that  girl  with  too 
high  and  mighty  notions,"  said  he.  "There  he  is,  poor 
and  in  debt  further  than  he  can  see  a  way  to  pay.  He 
haint  got  no  help.  His  boy  is  a  girl,  and  they  tell  me  he 
is  talkin'  er  sending  her  to  college  or  some  such  fool  no- 


22  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

tion,  and  they  say  he  spends  at  least  fifty  dollars  a  year 
for  books  and  papers  and  sich.  It  is  well  enough  for  a 
man  to  have  a  decent  education.  I  suppose  he's  got  that, 
now  why  don't  he  stop  fooling  with  books  and  try  and 
make  some  money?" 

"Grafton  is  a  good  worker,"  ventured  one  of  the 
loungers. 

"  Yes,  maybe  he  is,  but  he  don't  manage  right." 

"Well,  how  ought  he  to  manage?" 

"Well,  he  aint  no  use  for  so  many  books.  They  say 
he's  got  a  house  full  now,  and  he  don't  need  more'n  one 
good  newspaper.  The  Tribune  is  enough  for  any  farmer 
to  read.  Then  them  reform  notions  er  his  is  enough  to 
put  any  man  down.  Let  the  farmers  tend  to  their  busi 
ness  an'  we'll  tend  to  ourn." 

Mr.  Busteed  was  a  director  and  reputed  heavy  stock 
holder  in  the   local  bank;    his  business  consisted,   as  he 
himself  expressed  it,  in  looking  for  "soft  snaps."     He  was 
a  speculator,  a  buyer  of  grain  and  an  occasional  loaner  of 
money  at  unmentionable  rates?  standing  ready  to  buy  up 
property  of  any  kind,  when  its  owner  stood  in  direful  need. 
Although   all    his   efforts    were    directed    towards    taking 
advantage  of  the  necessities  of  his   needy  fellow  creatures, 
he  veiled   his  deeds  with  a  thin  gloss  of  very   ordinary 
religion.      He     made     no     pretentious    to    sanctit}^    and, 
although  a  member  of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  he  seldom 
attended  the  prayer  or  official  meetings  of  the   society,  but 
when  it  came  to  cash   support,   he  gave   more    than  any 
other  five  members  and   thus  came  to  be  the  most  influ 
ential   member   the    Church    possessed.     Indeed,  without 
him  it  seemed   impossible  for  the  Church  to  exist.     His 
son  was  an  idle,   worthless  rake  of  twenty,  who  as  a  boy 
had  been  guilty  of  all  the  meanness  possible  to  mean  boys 
and  who  as  a  man  bid  fair  to  eclipse  his  youthful  record. 
"Now  there's  that  girl,"  he  continued;  "she  ought  to 
help  her  folks;  no  use  of  her  readin'  po'try,  or  anything 
er  that  kind.     She  ought  to  work  out ;    she  could  earn  at 


LOOKING  FORWARD.  23 

least  two  dollars  a  week;  then  if  she  was  away  from  home 
lu-r  board  would  be  saved  and  that's  two  more;  that's  two 
hundred  dollars  a  year;  for  ten  years  that  alone  is  two 
thousand,  but  handle  it  right,  put  the  savings  of  each  year 
out  at  interest,  or  employ  it  more  profitably,  and  instead 
of  two  thousand,  in  ten  years  it  would  be  four  or  fivt  — 
more  than  Geogre  Grafton  is  worth.  Yes,  she  ought  to 
work  out;  there  is  Miss  Busteed  wants  a  girl  now." 

"  You  and  me,"  said  Uncle  Bill,  "  aint  fit  to  have  that 
girl  in  our  houses;  we  wouldn't  know  how  to  treat  her: 
why  blame  your  old  hide  there  is  the  real  glory-look  in 
them  great  brown  eyes  of  hers.  I  aint  got  no  son,  but  if  I 
had  one  like  John  there,  I'd  know  better  than  to  mention 
such  a  thing." 

It  was  Uncle  Bill,  and  Mr.  Busteed  ventured  no  reply; 
he  noted  sharply,  however,  the  actions  of  those  whose  looks 
and  nods  betokened  approval  of  the  free  speech,  and 
muttering  something  like,  "you'll  see,  you'll  see,"  he  stnxlu 
hastily  away. 


LOOKING  FORWARD. 

CHAPTER    III. 

WHO    MAKETH    THEM    TO    DIFFER." 

S     Mary    returned    to    the    store,    after 
leaving  the  butter  at  the  house  to  which 
she  had  taken  it,  the  loungers,  who  still 
remained     where    she    had    left    them, 
moved  very  politely  out  of  her  way  as 
she  entered  the  store.     Mr.  Baker,  the  keeper, 
who  was  also   the  village   postmaster,   saluted 
her  quite  pleasantly: 

"  Good  morning;  awful  nice  morning  aint  it? 
Got  lots  of  mail  for  your  folks." 

"Ah,  is  that  so;  are  there  any  letters  for  us?" 
"  Why  I  believe  so,"  said  he;  "  but  your  box  is  more'n 
full  of  papers;  you  see,  the  magazines  is  come." 

Mary  expressed  pleasure  at  having  the  magazines  to 
read :  the  coffee  and  other  articles  were  soon  purchased  and 
all  placed  in  the  basket  she  had  brought;  she  led  old  Jim 
up  to  the  sidewalk,  which  answered  the  purpose  of  a  horse 
block;  a  moment  more  and  she  was  in  the  saddle,  Mr. 
Baker  brought  out  the  basket  and  handed  it  up  to  her  and 
she  was  on  the  road  home. 

As  soon  as  she  got  out  of  the  village,  the  horse  moving 
gently  along,  she  took  from  the  basket  in  front  of  her,  the 
various  newspapers  and  magazines,  looked  each  over  hur 
riedly,  reading  a  little  here  and  there.  Opening  a  magazine 
she  read  what  a  wealthy  lady  had  given  as  a  description  of 
her  mode  of  life,  and  this  is  what  she  read: 

"We  breakfast  about  ten.  Breakfast  occupies  the  best 
part  of  an  hour,  during  which  we  read  our  letters  and  pick 
up  the  latest  news  in  the  papers.  After  that  we  have  to  go 
and  answer  our  letters,  and  my  mother  expects  me  to  write 
her  notes  of  invitation  or  reply  to  such.  Then  I  have  to 
go  into  the  conservatory  and  feed  the  canaries  and  parrots 
and  cut  off  the  dead  leaves  and  faded  flowers  from  the  plants. 
Then  it  is  time  to  dress  for  lunch  and  at  two  o'clock  we 
lunch.  At  three  my  mother  likes  me  to  go  with  her  when 
she  makes  her  calls,  and  we  then  come  home  to  a  five  o'clock 


Who  Maketh  Them  to  Differ. 


LOOKING  FORWARD.  2J 

tea  when  some  friends  drop  in.  After  that  we  get  ready 
to  take  our  drive  in  the  park,  and  then  we  go  honi«-  t<> 
dinner,  and  after  dinner  we  go  to  the  theatre  or  the  opera, 
and  then  when  we  get  home  I  am  so  dreadfully  tired,  that 
I  don't  know  what  to  do." 

Mary  had  read  very  much  more  than  most  girls  of 
her  age;  she  knew  that  the  life  thus  described  was  lived 
by  but  very  few  in  our  largest  cities,  but  as  she  closed  the 
book  and  strove  to  imagine  the  life  thus  brought  before 
her,  the  utter  vacuity  of  such  an  existence  was  most  fully 
impressed  upon  her.  How  could  sensible  people  live  such 
a  life  ?  Ah!  hers  was  a  preferable  life,  she  thought.  The 
dear  faces  at  home  rose  up  before  her,  and  with  a  glow  of 
exultation  she  patted  poor  old  Jim  as  the  only  represen 
tative  at  hand  of  the  little  band,  dearer  than  all  the  world 
beside. 

Turning  over  the  newspapers,  her  eyes  fell  upon  a 
paragraph,  and  this  is  what  she  saw: 

"In  a  New  England  town  the  other  day,  a  newsboy, 
hardly  higher  than  the  platform,  was  run  over  by  a  horse- 
ear  and  fatally  hurt.  What  did  the  self-supporting  baby 
of  six  years  do,  when  writhing  in  the  last  agonies  ot  a 
terrible  death  ?  He  called  piteously  for  his  mother. 
Why  ?  To  shriek  piteously  upon  her  breast  ?  That  she 
might  clasp  him  while  the  surgeon  worked  ?  Ah,  no!  It 
was  to  give  her  his  day's  earnings.  '  I've  saved  'em, 
mother!'  he  cried.  '  I've  saved 'em  all!  Here  they  are!' 
When  his  little  clenched,  dirty  hand  fell  rigid  it  was  found 
to  contain  four  cents." 

Mary's  eyes  filled  with  tears.  Were  there  people  like 
that  ?  Did  God  care  for  the  poor  ?  How  could  He  if  such 
things  were  permitted  to  continue?  And  yet  she  knew 
that  this  was  but  one  of  a  thousand  daily  incidents  in  the 
life  of  the  cities,  where  brilliant  sights  and  horrid  scene- 
are  so  inextricably  commingled.  What  a  world  this  was! 
How  much  of  happiness,  and  ah!  how  much  of  misery! 

As  she  rode  up  the  lane  and  came  near  the  house,  her 
mother,  who  had  been  on  the  watch,  came  out  to  meet  her; 
giving  her  the  basket  she  sprang  lightly  from  the  saddle, 


28  LOOKING  FORWARD. 

and  throwing  her  arms  about  her  mother,  impulsively 
kissed  her. 

The  watchful  mother  noted  the  tear  upon  her  daugh 
ter's  cheek,  although  her  eyes  were  laughing  and  her  face 
was  wreathed  with  smiles. 

"Why  Mary,"  she  began;  "has  anything  happened 
to  you?" 

"Oh  no,  mother  dear;  but  I  was  just  reading  some 
thing  which  made  me  feel  so  sorry,  and  when  I  saw  you 
and  thought  what  a  pleasant  home  I  had  and  how  much  I 
loved  you  I  couldn't  help  hugging  you  just  a  little." 

Mrs.  Grafton  was  too  wise  a  woman  to  make  many 
enquiries.  She  knew  her  daughter's  impulsive  spirit;  she 
had  full  confidence  in  her,  and  for  the  moment  busied 
herself  in  helping  Mary  as  they  tugged  at  the  dry  old 
straps  and  rusty  buckles  of  the  saddle.  Taking  it  off,  she 
placed  it  upon  the  spacious  back  porch,  while  light-hearted 
Mary  led  the  old  horse  to  the  pasture,  swung  open  the 
gate,  and  stripping  off  the  bridle,  turned  the  faithful  beast 
loose,  to  crop  the  short  grass. 

Just  then  she  espied  her  father  coming  into  dinner 
from  the  field.  By  going  across  the  corner  of  the  pasture 
she  could  readily  intercept  him  as  he  came  up  the  farm 
road,  and  this  she  did,  actually  running  part  of  the  way, 
that  she  might  meet  him  at  a  certain  bend  in  the  road. 

Mr.  Grafton  was  driving  the  team,  which  with  dang 
ling  chains  and  rattling  harness,  were  swinging  heavily 
along,  while  he  walked  behind.  Mary  came  up,  and 
putting  her  hand  in  that  of  her  father,  they  walked  along 
"  swinging  hands"  like  a  couple  of  school-girls. 

At  first  neither  spoke  a  word ;  at  last  Mary  broke  the 
silence,  saying: 

"  Father,  what  makes  such  a  difference  in  the  condi 
tions  of  life  in  which  people  are  found." 

"  Why,  what  makes  you  ask  that?" 

Mary  then  related  what  she  had  been  reading,  saying 
that  the  great  difference  between  the  very  rich  and  the 


LOOKING;  FORWARD.  29 

very  poor  was  to  her  a  mystery,  if  all  were  the  children  of 
God,  who  loved  all  alike. 

"  Opportunity  makes  people,  and  the  lack  of  it  pre 
vents  them,"  said  he. 

"  Don't  you  know  what  Gray  says: 

'Full  many  a  gem  of  purest  ray  serene 
The  dark  unfathomed  caves  of  ocean  bear ; 

Full  many  a  flower  is  born  to  blush  unseen 
And  waste  its  sweetness  on  the  desert  air.'  " 

"Oh  yes,"  said  she;  "so  many  people  never  have  a 
chance;  opportunity  doesn't  come  to  them.  Why  is  it?'' 

"  Up  to  a  comparatively  recent  period,  orthodox  peo 
ple  comforted  themselves  with  the  theory  of  Rev.  Dr. 
Malthas,  as  an  answer  to  this  question,"  said  Mr  Grafton. 
"This  theory  held  to  the  belief  that  the  increase  of  popu 
lation  in  the  world  tends  to  outrun  the  means  of  subsis 
tence.  That  more  people  are  born  into  the  world  than 
can  properly  be  cared  for.  That  wars,  pestilence,  famine 
and  hardships  generally,  are  the  God -appointed  means  of 
thinning  out  an  undesirable  increase.  That  God  has 
created  more  people  than  he  can  care  for  and  that  He  then 
sets  men  to  killing  and  destroying  one  another,  in  various 
ways,  as  a  means  of  getting  rid  of  His  own  mistakes. 
This  theory  was  very  convenient  and  consoling  and  laid 
all  blame — if  blame  there  was — upon  God.  Great  generals 
and  small  persecutors  consoled  themselves  with  the  idea 
that  they  were  co-workers  with  Deity  in  the  necessary 
work  of  the  world.  In  much  the  same  way  the  people 
who  held  slaves,  in  this  country,  a  while  ago,  found  a 
passage  in  the  scriptures  which  they  took  a  great  fancy  to. 
Old  Noah  cursed  one  of  his  grandsons,  saying:  'Cursed  be 
Canaan,  a  servant  of  servants  shall  he  be  to  his  brethern;' 
and  the  southern  divines  held,  without  the  slightest 
authority,  that  Canaan  symboli/ed  the  black  race,  and 
that  as  Noah  in  the  Bible  had  cursed  Canaan,  they  were 
carrying  out  the  work  of  the  Lord  in  America  by  holding 
negroes  in  slavery.  It  was  a  very  slim  foundation,  but 
what  there  was  came  from  the  Bible  and  they  made  much 


LOOKING  FORWARD. 


of  it  for  the  reason  that  they  could  lay  the  blame  on  Noah 
or  the  Bible.  The  real  truth  then  was,  as  it  is  now  with 
the  poor  creatures  you  were  pitying,  a  while  ago:  the 
whole  trouble  comes  from  the  insane  and  murderous  greed 
of  man. 

"  Now-a-days  there  is  another  passage  that  people  who 
are  engaged  in  'keeping  poor  people  in  their  places'  are 
very  anxious  to  quote,  and  that  is  Christ's  saying  at  a 
particular  time:  '  The  poor  always  ye  have  with  you  but 
me  ye  have  not  always,"  as  though  He  meant  people  to 
assist  in  the  work  of  making  poverty  permanent,  but  if 
these  will  only  look  it  up,  they  will  find  that  this  was 
really  said  in  opposition  to  a  protest  of  Judas,  and  a  pre 
ceding  verse  exactly  describes  the  people  who  are  repeat 
ing  what  Jesus  said  without  noting  the  circumstances.  It 
is  found  in  the  twelfth  chapter  of  John: 

'This  he  said  not  that  he  cared  for  the  poor;  but  be 
cause  he  was  a  thief,  and  had  the  bag  and  bare  what  was 
put  therein.' 

"  '  Man's  inhumanity  to  man  makes  countless  thousands 
mourn!"  That's  the  foundation  of  the  whole  trouble." 

They  had  now  arrived  at  the  stable  where 
Charlie  was  awaiting  them,  and  as  Mr.  Grafton 
stooped  to  take  the  little  fellow  in  his   arms, 
Mary  drew  the  reins  from  his  hands,  tied  them 
in  the  proper  rings  and  deftly  unhar 
nessed  one    horse    before    Charlie   had 
finished  telling  his  father  a  wonderful 
story    relating    to    a    little   bird 
which  the  house  cat  had  caught 
and  eaten.     The  other  horse  was 
quickly  stripped,  Mary  led  them 
to  the   trough,   while   her  father 
pumped  the  water  for  the  thirsty 
beasts.     Soon  they  were  placed 
in  their  stalls  and  all  then  went 
in  to  dinner. 


LOOKING  FORWARD.  3  x 

Just  as  they  reached  the  back  door  they  saw  a  man 
driving  a  pair  of  ponies  before  a  buggy,  moving  rapidly  along 
the  public  highway.  As  he  came  to  the  entrance  to  the 
Grafton  place  he  turned  and  came  up  at  a  smart  trot. 

"  It  is  Busteed,"  said  Mr.  Grafton.  "  I  wonder  what 
makes  him  come  in." 

"Howdy,  Graftou,"  said  the  man  of  business.  "  I  was 
going  out  to  Barnes'  place  on  a  little  business,  and  I  just 
drove  in  to  let  you  know  that  I'll  have  to  have  that  money 
sooner  than  I  thought,  fact  is  I  need  it  bad;  you  haven't  it 
by  you,  I  s'pose?" 

"No,"  said  Mr.  Grafton,  "  I  haven't,  and  I  did  not  try 
to  get  it,  as  you  told  me  that  it  could  run  until  after  harvest, 
just  as  well  as  not." 

"So  I  did,  but  I  didn't  know  what  was   coming.     Well 
I'll  have  to  have  it." 

"Why,"  said  Mr.  Grafton,  "I  don't  see  how  I  am  to 
get  it  for  you  unless  I  borrow  it." 

"  No,  I  s'pose  not ;  but  you  can  do  that,  can't  you  ?" 

"  Possibly  I  can.  But  I  do  not  know  whom  to  go  to  for 
a  loan.  Can  you  tell  me?" 

"  Well,"  said  Busteed,  "  I  expect  the  old  Squire  is  the 
only  chance." 

Mr.  Grafton  made  no  immediate  reply,  for  he  knew,  as 
did  every  one  in  the  vicinity,  that  old  "Squire"  Clinch,  as 
he  was  called,  was  but  a  creature  of  Busteed's,  and  of  others, 
who,  having  no  capital  of  his  own,  did  a  precarious  business 
as  loan  agent,  and  was  expected  by  his  employers  to  take 
advantages  which  they  were  ashamed  openly  to  extort. 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Grafton,  "I'll  try  what  I  can  do  for 
you  in  a  day  or  two."  Busteed  whirled  his  ponies  about, 
and,  with  a  parting  injunction  to  "be  sure  and  fix  that 
matter  up,"  he  was  gone. 

Mrs.  Grafton  had  been  a  listener  to  the  colloquy  just 
related,  and  as  the  family  sat  down  to  dinner,  the  knowledge 
of  the  serious  financial  straits  they  were  in,  and  the  uiicer- 


LOOKING  FORWARD. 


tainty  of  the  future,  was  for  once   too  weighty  to  be  thrown 
aside. 

"Why  don't  you  laugh  to  me,"  said  little  Charlie,  not 
ing  the  grave  and  silent  faces. 


.LOOKINC,   FORWARD.  33 

CHAPTER     IV. 

"  MONEY    ANSWERETH    ALL    THINGvS." 

EORGE  Grafton  had  for  some  time 
been  "running  behind,"  as  the  neigh 
bors  said.  The  loss  of  a  crop,  followed 
by  a  long-continued  time  of  low  prices, 
had  reduced  his  means  of  living  to  the 
lowest  possible  point. 

When  the  farm,  upon  which  he  lived,  was 
purchased,  he  had  bought  it  011  "payments," 
and  as  the  crops  raised  had  not  enabled 
him  to  pay  the  balance  of  the  purchase 
money  at  the  appointed  time,  the  farm  was  mortgaged  and 
the  money  raised  for  that  purpose.  The  mortgage  drew  a 
heavy  rate  of  interest  and  formed  a  serious  annual  charge. 
He  did  not  look  upon  life  as  a  mere  opportunity  to  collect 
a  store  of  dimes  and  dollars  and  so,  out  of  regard  to  what  he 
considered  the  higher  interests  of  himself  and  family,  man}' 
opportunities  for  accumulating  money  were  allowed  to  pass 
as  unworthy  the  sacrifice  which  he  felt  they  would  be  called 
upon  to  make  in  obtaining  it.  It  thus  happened  that  he 
found  himself  the  subject  of  many  criticisms,  on  the  part  of 
his  neighbors,  regarding  his  management  of  affairs,  most  of 
which  were  in  the  same  line  as  that  of  Mr.  Busteed,  regard 
ing  Mary's  services.  It  thus  came  about  that,  although  he 
had  been  reasonably  successful  in  his  business  of  farming, 
so  far  at  least  as  raising  crops  was  concerned,  yet  he  found 
that  he  was  not  only  not  gaining  financially,  but  was  actu 
ally  running  astern.  And  when  he  compared  his  condition 
with  that  of  the  farmers  about  him,  he  found  that  his  condi 
tion  was  fully  as  good  as  the  average.  Those  who  had 
raised  more  had  also  taken  greater  risks,  and  lost  more. 
Those  who  had  been  raising  cattle  had  lost  heavily  in  their 
operations  by  the  fall  of  prices  as  controlled  by  the  manipu 
lators  of  the  great  markets. 

The   next   morning   Mr.   Grafton   went  to  the  village, 


34 


LOOKING  FORWARD. 


resolved  to  make  some  arrangement,  if  possible,  to  obtain 
the  money  to  pay  off  Busteed,  hoping  that  the  crop  might 
turn  out  so  favorably  as  to  relieve  his  necessities,  at  least 
for  the  time. 

Arrived  in  the  town,  he  at  once  sought  the  bank,  and 
was  there  told  that  "they  were  not  loaning  now,"  but  that 
they  had  in  the  vault  some  funds  belonging  to  a  private 
party  which  might  possibly  be  gotten  with  a  good,  well- 
secured  note ;  "  but,"  said  the  cashier,  "  if  the  note  suits,  he 
will  discount  it ;  he  don't  loan  at  a  specified  rate  ;  says  he'll 
buy  good  notes.  How  much  do  you  want?" 

"  I  have  a  note  out  for  a  hundred  dollars  that  I  want  to 
pay,"  said  Mr.  Grafton. 

u  You  will  have  to  have  an  even  hundred,  then  ?" 
"Yes." 

"Well,  then,  I  expect  the  best  plan  will  be  to  make  a 
note  for  one  hundred  and  twenty-five,  and  get  a  good  signer 
and  we  will  submit  the  note  and  see  what  can  be  got ;  I 
suppose  sixty  days  time  will  suit  you?" 

"Yes,  I  can  pay  it  then,  I  hope,  but  what  amount  will 
I  realize  from  the  note  you  describe?" 

"Well,  the  party  who  has  this  money  is  pretty  hard, 
and  he  is  a  close  shaver." 

"  Yes,  I  presume  so,  but  can't  you  give  me  an  idea  of 
the  amount  he  would  allow  on  such  a  note?" 

"Well,  Grafton,  this  man  loans  money  for  what  he 
can  make,  and  he  makes  all  he  can,  and  I  don't  reckon 
you  would  get  much  over  the  amount  you  need.  Might 
some." 

"  You  mean  to  say,  then,  that  he  would  not  give  much 
over  a  hundred  for  such  a  note?" 
"Well,  that's  about  it." 

"Let's  see,"  said  Grafton;  "that  is  twenty-five  per 
cent,  for  two  months  time,  or  twelve  and  a  half  per  cent, 
per  month." 

"0,  you  needn't  go  wild  now;  that  aint  the  way  to 
look  at  it,  it  is  simply  buying  the  note  for  what  it  will 


LOOKING  FORWARD. 


35 


"  LKT'S  SEE,"  SAID  GRAFTON  ;  "THAT  is  TWENTY-FIVE  PKK  CENT.  FOK  TWO  MONTH'S 

TIME,    OR  TWELVE  AND  A   HALF  1'ER  CENT.   PER  MONTH." 


You  sec  money  is  scarce  and  a  tiling  is  worth  what 
it  will  bring.  You  make  your  note  and  if  anybody  will 
irivr  m«>re  for  it,  take  it  to  'eni;  there's  no  force  to  this 
thing.  This  is  a  free  country." 

"You  know  very  well  that  there  are  so  few  who  have 
any  money  that  they  are  able  to  take  what  advantage  they 
please,"  said  Graf  ton. 

"Oh,  well  if  you  want  to  p,et  huffy  about  it  I  don't 
believe  this  party  would  loan  to  you  anyhow;  he  don't 
want  no  trouble  with  anybody." 

('irafton  turned  upon  his  heel  and  left  the  bank;  he 
knew  as  well  as  he  cared  to  know,  that  the  mythical  per 
sonage  who  had  the  money  was  none  other  than  the 
cashier  himself,  who  thus  sought  to  "turn  an  honest 
penny." 


36  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

But  the  money  must  be  had  and  Grafton  was  deter 
mined  to  secure  it,  if  possible.  He  had  borrowed  it  of 
Busteed  at  "legal  rates,"  or  twelve  per  cent,  per  annum, 
and  he  was  aware  that  as  harvest  was  approaching  and  the 
farming  community  being  called  upon  for  unusual  expen 
ditures,  were  at  this  time  nearly  all  borrowers  of  money 
in  large  or  small  quantities,  and  that  he  should  be  obliged 
to  pay  a  heavier  rate  than  the  note  now  drew.  Resolving 
to  know  the  worst,  he  went  at  once  to  Squire  Clinch's 
office  and  made  known  his  business. 

"  What  security  have  you  to  give?"  said  Clinch. 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Grafton,  "I  guess  I  would  as  soon 
give  you  a  chattel  mortgage,  as  to  ask  anybody  to  go  on 
my  note." 

"What  on?" 

"  Well,  on  my  big  team  of  horses." 

"  You  want  a  hundred  dollars?" 

"Yes." 

"  For  sixty  days?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  you  make  out  a  note  and  mortgage  for  one 
hundred  and  ten,  and  I'll  get  the  money." 

"  Why,  that's  five  per  cent,  a  month,"  said  Grafton. 

"  Footy  near  it,  that's  a  fact  ;  but  the  fellows  I  loan 
for  is  sharpers;  they  have  to  have  their  interest,  and  then 
I  must  get  a  little  for  my  work  of  making  loans.  Best  I 
can  do  for  ye,  Grafton;  fact  is,  money  is  scarce." 

'  Well,  I'll  see,"  said  Grafton,  as  he  turned  and  went 
out. 

He  went  at  once  to  the  shop  of  "  Uncle  Bill "  Weldon, 
the  blacksmith. 

In  small  villages  and  country  places  the  blacksmith 
shop  is  a  source  of  neighborhood  gossip  unequalled.  Men 
go  there  to  have  work  performed,  and,  being  away  from 
home,  are  obliged  to  wait  upon  it.  Conversation  is  cer 
tain  to  ensue  regarding  neighborhood  news,  scandals  and 
quarrels,  and  topics  ranging  from  the  last  message  of  the 


LOOKING  FORWARD. 


37 


President  down  to  the  legitimacy  of  the  latest  child  born 
in  the  "settlement"  are  fully  discussed  and  decided. 

rude  Bill  was  hammering  away  at  a  piece  of  iron, 
and  barely  glanced  at  Grafton  as  he  entered  ;  having  fin 
ished  his  "In -at"  and  returned  the  iron  to  the  forge,  he 
straightened  up  and  began  to  pump  at  the  bellows. 

••  I'nele  Bill,"  said  Grafton,  "I  want  to  speak  to  you  a 
moment!" 

"All  right,  say  ahead!" 

Grafton  walked  to  the  further  corner  of  the  little  shop, 
Weldon  followed,  and  in  a  low  tone  the  farmer  said: 

"  I've  got  to  have  some  money  and  I've  been  over  to 
the  bank  and  around  to  the  old  Squire's,  but  they  all  want 
rates  that  no  man  can  long  stand  to  pay;  do  you  know  of 
any  one  who  has  a  little  by  him  that  aint  in  the  regular 
thieving  line?" 

"  No,"  said  Weldon,  "  I  don't.  I  did  a  while  ago,  but 
being  as  it  is  getting  so  near  harvest  and  every  body 
having  to  have  more  or  less,  I  don't  think  you  can  do 
better  than  to  take  up  with  their  offers." 

"  Well,"  said  Grafton,  "if  I  must,  I  must." 

"  Yes,  there  aint  no  other  show,  least  ways,  not  now." 

Turning  about,  Mr.  Grafton  went  at  once  to  Clinch's 
office,  made  out  the  mortgage,  secured  the  money,  paid  his 
imtc.  which  he  found  at  the  bank;  thinking  as  he  paid  it 
that  possibly  the  mythical  party  who  was  willing  to  loan 
at  twelve  and  a  half  per  cent,  per  month  had  now  secured 
another  hundred  dollars  to  loan  at  an  increased  rate.  He 
went  immediately  home.  As  he  drove  up  to  the  stable 
Mary  came  out  and  began  to  unharness  the  team  upon 
one  side  while  her  father  was  engaged  upon  the  other; 
practice  had  enabled  her  to  do  this  very  quickly,  and  she 
had  "her  horse"  unhitched  and  was  leading  it  to  the  water 
trough  before  her  father  had  finished  the  one  he  was 
engaged  upon. 


LOOKING    FORWARD. 


Pretty  smart  boy  I've  got," 
said  M>.  Graf  ton. 

"  I  wish  I  was  a  boy,  then  I 
could  help  you.'' 

"Why,  don't  you  help  me 
now?" 

"O,  I  try  to  do  what  little  I 
can;  but  it  is  so  little  and  there 
is  so  much  to  be  done." 

"Ah!  Molly  you  are  a  great 
help  to  me  as  it  is.  I  don't 
know  what  I  would  do  without 
you  and  the  folks  in  the  house." 
During  this  little  colloquy 
Mary  had  been  engaged  in  narrowly  watching  her  father's 
actions  and  manner,  hoping  thereby  to  gain  some  inkling 
of  the  condition  of  his  mind.  She  knew  very  well  the 
purpose  of  his  visit  to  Plainville,  but  she  chose  not  to  ask 
him  directly  regarding  this,  as  she  was  well  aware  that  in 
case  he  wished  her  to  know,  he  could  readily  tell  her,  and 
then,  if  from  any  cause  he  did  not  wish  her  to  be  informed 
she  had  too  much  regard  for  his  wishes  to  seek  to  pry  into 
the  matter. 

Presently  she  said:  u  My  plan  of  going  to  school  will 
have  to  be  given  up,  won't  it,  father?" 

"Not  if  I  can  help  it,"  said  he.  "Perhaps  the  wheat 
may  do  wonders  for  us." 

" But  that  is  so  frail  a  hope.  It  isn't  possible,  is  it, 
for  us  to  receive  enough  from  that  to  meet  all  demands 
and  send  me  away,  too?" 

"Oh,  yes,  it  is  possible." 

"But  it  isn't  probable?" 

'  Why,  I  fear  not;  I  wish  I  could  say  something  more 
encouraging,  but  I  can't.  You  must  be  a  brave  girl, 
Molly,  I  know  you  can  be.  You  are  young.  The  world  is 
all  before  you  and  I  feel  sure  that  what  we  all  so  much 
desire  for  you  can  somehow  be  accomplished.'' 


FORWARD. 


39 


''Then  you  don't  think  I  am.  one  of  the  flowers, 

'born  to  blush  unseen 
And  waste  its  sweetness  on  the  desert  air.'  " 

"  Bless  vour  heart,  you  are  one   of  the   flowers,  at  anv 

i  '    »/  . 

rate,"  said  Mr.  Graf  ton.  "There  comes  mother  and  Charlie 
for  us  now." 

It  was  but  a  little  way  from  the  kitchen  door  to  the 
front  of  the  horse  stables,  and  Mrs.  Graf  ton,  having  fin 
ished  her  preparations  for  the  noonday  meal,  came  out  to 
hurry  them  in  to  dinner;  little  Charlie  running  down  the 
path  before  her. 

"  Father,"  said  Mary,  "you  go  in  with  mother  and  I 
will  feed  the  horses.  I  can  just  as  well  as  not  ;  you  know 
I  am  your  boy  now;"  and  she  set  her  straw  hat  jauntily 
upon  one  side  of  her  head  and  saving,  "come,  old  fellows, 
you  've  drank  enough,"  she  led  the  horses  toward  the 
stable,  whistling  a  few  bars  from  "Suwanee  River." 

Mr.  Grafton  stood  looking  after  the  brave-hearted 
girl,  and  as  his  wife  came  up,  said:  "That  girl  is  a 
wonder  to  me  sometimes;  isn't  she  a  jewel?" 

''  She  has  set  her  heart  upon  going  to  school,"  said 
Mrs.  Grafton. 

"  Well,  we  must  have  her  go,  if  such  a  thing  is  pos- 
sibl 

"Boy,"  called  Mr.  Grafton,  quite  loudly;  "give  those 
horses  ten  ears  of  corn  apiece;''  and  a  voice  came  back 
from  the  depths  of  the  stable,  imitating  as  well  as  it  could 
the  rough  tones  of  a  man: 

"All  right,  sir:  just  as  you  say." 


4o 


LOOKING   FORWARD. 


CHAPTER     V. 

LEAVING    HOME. 

HE  days  come  and  go.  Life  is 
but  a  chain  of  events  following 
each  other  in  uninterrupted  suc 
cession.  We  are  hurried  forward 
by  the  march  of  time,  whether 
we  will  or  no,  and  as  we  look 
backward  upon  the  path  we  have 
trod  and  the  way  we  have  come, 

we  are  forced  to  acknowledge  that  a  power  greater  than 
that  of  our  own  will  has  been  imposed  upon  us.  The  thing 
we  intended  did  not  come  to  pass. 

Thus  was  it  with  the  Graf  tons;  the  summer  came 
and  went.  Their  hopes  and  expectations,  as  with  others, 
rose  and  fell  with  the  varying  tide  of  experiences  forced 
upon  them.  They  did  what  they  could,  and  having  done 
this,  they  were  still  at  the  mercy  of  circumstances  over 
which  they  had  not  the  slightest  control  Every  cloud 
that  rose  in  the  west  made  them  feel  their  entire  depend 
ence  on  the  elemental  forces  which  might,  within  an  hour, 
deprive  them  of  ability  to  pay  the  indebtedness  which 
hung,  like  a  heavy  weight,  upon  their  minds.  Every 
moment  of  waking  consciousness  was  burdened,  and  even 
the  dreams  of  the  midnight  hour  took  on  the  sombre  hue 
of  possible  disappointment  and  defeat. 

Love  sweetened  the  load.  A  little  love,  a  little  hope, 
with  confidence  in  the  rectitude  of  intent,  can  sweeten  the 
life  of  even  the  veriest  slave.  With  these,  life  is  a  pleasure 
and  each  day  a  new-found  opportunity. 

Mr.  Grafton's  harvest  had  not  failed  him.  Despite 
his  fears  and  the  exigencies  of  his  position,  he  had  been 
successful,  and  although  obliged  to  make  sale  of  his  crops, 
to  meet  his  pressing  obligations,  and  at  a  lower  rate  than 
he  felt  sure  could  be  later  obtained,  he  yet  had  been  able 
to  meet  the  demands  made  upon  him.  The  immediate 


I.ooKINC,     FORWARD.  43 

pressure  had  been  removed,  and  for  the  present  In-  was 
safe. 

The  (iraftons  sympathi/ed  deeply  with  their  daugh 
ter's  desire  to  attend  some  institution  of  learning,  which 
they  hoped  might  ail'ord  an  opportunity  for  enlighten 
ment,  and  a  glimpse  into  that  broader  and  higher  life  of 
the  mind,  whieh  once  beheld  and  comprehended,  lifts  its 
votaries  to  a  position  from  which  they  survey  the  tangled 
web  of  life  with  an  equanimity  and  confidence  felt  only  by 
those  who  have  learned  that  the  mind  of  man  is,  indeed 
and  in  truth,  a  kingdom. 

"  Mary."  said  Mrs.  Graftoii  one  day,  "  I  have  a  plan 
in  mind  for  you." 

"And  what  is  it,   mother9" 

"It  is  this:  we  cannot  pay  your  expenses  at  school 
this  year,  certainly;  next  year  may  be  no  better  than  this, 
and  yet  I  feel  that  the  attempt  ought  to  be  made.  Now  1 
have  thought  that  possibly  a  place  might  be  found  for  you 
in  Dr.  McFarland's  Institute  in  Topeka,  provided  you 
could  be  able  to  pay  your  way  by  work  in  the  household; 
you  know  this  is  a  boarding-school  and  there  must  be  a 
good  deal  of  work  to  be  done.  What  do  you  think  of  this? 
Would  you  be  willing  to  undertake  it?" 

"  Why  I  certainly  would  if  you  approved  of  the  plan." 
"As  to  that  I  could  not  tell,"  said  Mrs.  Graf  ton,  "un 
less  I  could  view  for  myself  the  surroundings  and  see  what 
would  be  required  of  you.     Of  course,  as  a  member  of  Dr. 
McFarland's  household,  you  would  be  reasonably  safe,  but 
I  could  not  tell  whether  the  position  you  would  be  called 
upon  to  take  would  be  of  any  advantage  to  you  or  not." 
"I  certainly  could  advance  in  my  studies  there." 

Yes,  but  there  are  other  things  to  be  thought  of," 
said  Mrs.  Grafton.  "  I  have  talked  this  matter  over  with 
your  father  and  we  are  both  of  the  opinion  that  the  only 
way  to  settle  it  definitely,  will  be  by  our  going  to  Topeka 
and  making  the  necessary  enquiries." 


44  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

"It  is  nearly  time  for  the  fall  term  to  commence, 
isn't  it?"  said  Mary. 

"  Yes,  and  if  we  go  we  must  start  not  later  than  next 
week." 

Youth  is  hopeful  and  expectant;  it  looks  forward  to 
the  future  with  pleasure.  Mary  was  anxious  to  make  the 
attempt,  and  it  was  decided  that  Mrs.  Graf  ton  and  her 
daughter  should,  on  the  following  week,  go  to  Topeka  and 
see  what  could  be  done. 

The  few  days  which  intervened  were  busy  with  prepa 
ration  in  the  Grafton  household.  Somehow  it  became 
known  that  Mary  was  to  go  away  to  school  and  that  she 
was  expecting  to  attend  Dr.  McFarland's  aristocratic 
Institute  for  Young  Ladies.  Mrs.  Grafton  did  not  volun 
tarily  speak  of  it,  but  in  the  country,  unless  one  refuses  to 
answer  the  usual  civil  enquiries  of  neighors,  it  is  almost 
impossible  to  keep  anything  long  a  secret.  Being  repeated 
from  one  to  another,  the  story  grew  to  such  proportions, 
that  the  real  facts  regarding  the  attempt  of  the  poor  farm 
er's  daughter  to  obtain  educational  advantages  and  her 
willingness  to  do  menial  work  to  secure  them,  were  dis 
torted  and  made  to  represent  the  acts  of  foolish  people 
who  desired  to  ape  the  manners  of  those  above  them  in 
the  social  scale. 

It  became  at  once  the  topic  of  general  comment; 
Busteed  remarking  that  pride  always  went  before  a  fall, 
and  that  Grafton  was  only  making  a  fool  of  that  girl  of 
his.  She  would  get  notions  that  would  spoil  her  and 
make  trouble  for  the  family.  He  had  known,  he  said,  of 
one  such  case  before;  the  folks  were  well-meaning  people 
enough  and  thought  everything  of  Lucy,  and  sent  her  off 
to  the  city,  and  in  a  little  while,  maybe  a  year  or  two,  she 
was  walking  the  streets,  a  painted  harlot. 

Mr.  Ellery,  the  Presbyterian  minister,  rather  guard 
edly  took  an  opposing  view.  Mary  was  a  bright  girl,  and 
he  felt  sure  would  give  a  good  account  of  herself.  That 
she  should  desire  an  education,  he  thought  very  commend- 


LOOKING    FORWARD.  45 

able,  and  if  she,  was  resolved  upon  obtaining  it,  her  parents 
were  doing  right  in  assisting  her,  at  some  sacrifice,  to 
gratify  her  ambition.  He  was  acquainted  with  Dr.  Mc- 
Farland,  he  said,  and  would  give  Mary  a  letter  of  intro 
duction,  which  might  be  of  some  service. 

The  appointed  day  soon  arrived,  and  Mr.  Grafton 
drove  to  the  station  with  his  family.  Little  Charlie  was 
too  young  to  fully  comprehend  what  was  meant  by  his 
sister's  departure. 

"  You  will  conic  hack  pretty  soon,  won't  you,  sister," 
he  said. 

"Yes,  dear,"  said  Mary,  "I  hope  so;"  and  for  the  first 
time  the  full  meaning  of  leaving  her  home  came  suddenly 
upon  her.  She  had  been  occupied  with  the  preparations 
connected  with  the  departure  ;  her  mother  had  been  con 
stantly  by  her  side,  and  knowing  that  she  was  to  accom 
pany  her  on  the  journey,  she  had  not  fully  realized  that 
the  ties,  which  were  with  her  so  strong,  were  so  soon  to  be 
even  temporarily  sundered.  The  tears  filled  her  eyes,  and 
for  the  moment  she  was  sorry  the  journey  had  been  under 
taken. 

"  Ma,  don't  let  Mary  go!"  said  the  child;  "she  will  cry 
all  the  time  if  you  do!" 

"  O,  no  she  won't!  Mary  knows  there  is  much  to  do, 
and  that  nothing  of  value  is  ever  gained  without  some 
sacrifice,"  said  the  mother. 

Before  leaving  the  wagon  and  just  as  they  came  into 
the  town,  Mr.  Grafton  said:  "Mary  there  is  one  rule, 
which  if  you  will  follow  will,  I  think,  be  to  you  a  sure 
guide;  it  is  this:  Never  do  anything  whicli  you  think 
your  father  and  mother  would  not  approve.'' 

"  O,  father!"  said  she;  "you  know  I  would  not  do  that!" 

"  I  know  you.  would  not  now,"  said  he;  "  but  the  fu 
ture  may  change  you.  We  cannot  tell  what  may  be  in 
store  for  you." 

As  Mr.  Grafton  said  this,  he  took  his  daughter's  hand 
in  his  and  said:  "  Do  you  promise,  Mary  ?" 


46  LOOKING  FORWARD. 

"  Yes,"  said  she,  slowly,  looking  straight  into  his  eyes ; 
"I  will!" 

Mr.  Grafton  drove  his  wagon  up  to  the  depot,  helped 
out  his  family  and,  when  he  had  hitched  his  team,  came  in 
to  the  station-house  to  wait  for  the  train,  which  was  shortly 
due. 

The  arrival  and  departuie  of  trains  at  country  stations 
forms  a  connecting  link  between  the  gay  outside  world  and 
the  dull  and  rather  monotonous  existence  lived  by  dwellers  in 
country  villages.  Most  of  the  inhabitants  occasionally  con 
gregated  at  this  time  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  rapidly- 
moving  train,  the  strange  faces,  and  to  take  note  who  among 
them  is  going  away  or  returning  from  abroad. 

Mr.  Ellery  was  there  with  his  letter  of  introduction,  as 
he  had  promised  ;  this  he  gave  to  Mrs.  Grafton  and,  wishing 
them  a  pleasant  journey,  he  withdrew. 

"  Uncle  Bill "  Weldon  was  also  present ;  his  shop  was 
near  at  hand  and  he  was  often  at  the  depot  for  a  few  minutes 
at  train  time.  "  It's  as  good  as  a  show,"  he  often  remarked. 
"A  fellow  can't  pound  all  the  time,  and  I  don't  believe  I  lose 
anything  by  taking  a  breathing  spell,  once  in  a  while." 

Watching  his  opportunity,  he  said  to  Mary,  unheard  by 
others:  "Don't  you  ever  forget  the  old  folks,  Mary;  just 
remember  that  you  won't  never  have  any  friends  equal  to 
them  if  you  live  to  be  as  old  as  Methuselah  !" 

The  train  came  thundering  along  and,  amid  hearty 
good-byes  and  hurried  hand-shakes,  they  were  off. 

Arrived  in  Topeka,  they  went  at  once  to  a  quiet  hotel, 
which  had  been  recommended  to  Mrs.  Grafton. 

The  "  Institute  "  was  at  some  distance  from  the  center 
of  the  city  ;  taking  the  street-cars  they  soon  came  to  the 
place ;  it  was  a  large,  rambling  edifice,  with  spacious 
grounds.  With  some  trepidation  Mrs.  Grafton  told  the 
pale  and  rather  thin  girl,  who  answered  her  summons,  that 
she  wished  to  speak  to  Dr.  McFarland,  and  they  were  shown 
into  a  large  reception-room  adjoining  the  hallway.  The 
room  was  large  and  the  ceiling  lofty  ;  it  was  tastefully  fur- 


LOOKING  FORWARD.  47 

nished  with  old-fashioned  and  somewhat  worn  furniture,  the 
walls  were  hung  with  portraits  and  paintings,  a  large  piano 
occupied  one  corner,  upon  it  was  a  vase  filled  with  rare 
flowers ;  some  statuettes  posed  upon  brackets,  and  from  an 
elevated  position  a  full-sized  bust  of  some  ponderous  worthy 
looked  down  upon  them.  They  had  just  glanced  about  the 
room  when  the  door  softly  opened  and  an  elderly  gentleman 
in  slippers,  advanced  to  meet  them.  Mrs.  Grafton  rose, 
saying:  "  Dr.  McFarland,  I  suppose?"  to  which  he  bowed 
assent;  "  I  have  a  letter  of  introduction,"  said  she,  "from 
Mr.  Ellery,  of  Plainville." 

"Ah  !"  said  he  ;  "pray  be  seated  !" 

As  he  was  reading  the  letter  Mrs.  Grafton  took  a  rapid 
inventory  of  his  features,  but  without  being  able  to  deter 
mine  much  regarding  his  character.  He  was  of  about  the 
average  height  and  size  ;  his  face  was  quite  full,  with  puffy 
cheeks,  rather  inclining  to  red  in  color,  denoting  a  lack  of 
sufficient  exercise,  and,  as  she  thought,  a  possible  high 
temper.  Before  she  had  fully  made  up  her  mind  as  to  the 
kind  of  a  man  the  doctor  might  be,  having  finished  the 
letter  and  now  knowing  the  character  of  the  case  in  hand, 
his  manner  underwent  a  slight  change  from  the  rather 
stately  air  with  which  he  began  the  interview. 

"  I  do  not  know,  Mrs.  Grafton,"  said  he,  "that  we  have 
any  vacancy  in  the  line  which  it  seems  you  are  thinking  of. 
We  have  a  great  many  applications  of  this  kind,  and  really 
I  must  say,  that  so  far,  they  have  given  us  more  trouble 
than  any  we  have  to  deal  with.  No  doubt  your  daughter 
would  expect  all  the  advantages  we  could  give  her,  and  as  a 
necessary  result  of  this  expectation,  would  not  be  very 
profitable  as  a  helper." 

"  My  daughter  would  certainly  strive  to  please,  and  is 
so  anxious  to  attend  school  that  she  would  be  willing  to 
work  pretty  hard  to  secure  a  position  which  would  enable 
her  to  pursue  her  studies,"  said  Mrs.  Grafton. 

"  You  are  aware,  Mrs.  Grafton,  that  if  your  daughter 
should  take  the  position  of  helper,  that  she  could  not  asso- 


48 


LOOKING    FORWARD. 


ciate  upon  terms  of  equality  with  the  young  ladies  of  the 
house.  That  she  could  only  receive  instruction  in  the 
studies  taken  by  the  day  scnolars  who  do  not  room  in  the 
house,  and  that  her  position  would  be  far  from  pleasant." 

"And  what  are  those  studies  ?"   said  Mrs.  Grafton. 

u  They  are  confined  to  the  higher  English  studies  and 
the  languages,"  said  the  doctor.  "  Perhaps  I  should  have 
sooner  stated  that  the  whole  direction  of  these  household 
matters  is  in  the  hands  of  Mrs.  McFarland.  Should  you 
think  it  worth  while,  after  what  I  have  told  you,  I  will 
summon  her." 

"  I  should  like  to  see  Mrs.  McFarland,"  said  Mrs- 
Graf  ton. 

The  doctor  withdrew  and  they  were  left  again  to  their 
reflections  and  a  survey  of  the  room  in  which  they  sat. 
Just  as  Mary  was  trying  to  make  up  her  mind  which  one  o1" 
the  ancient  Greek  philosophers  was  represented  by  the  big 
bust,  the  door  again  opened. 


"Taking  a  book  from  the  table  Mary  began  turning  the  leaves" 


LOOKING    FORWARD  5! 

CHAPTER     VI. 

FACING   A    FROWNING    WORLD. 

RS.  McFARLAND  was  appar 
ently  about  fifty  years  of  age, 
spare,  slight  and  nervous.  As 
she  advanced  to  meet  Mrs. 
Grafton  and  her  daughter,  for 
she  it  was  who  came  in — that 
lady's  attention  was  strangely  attracted 
by  the  short,  bobbing  curls  with  which 
each  side  of  her  face  was  furnished. 
They  shook  and  danced  in  such  a  way  as  to  give  a  stranger 
a  very  good  idea  of  the  energetic,  nervous  and  quite  business 
like  lad}7  who  wore  them. 

"Mr.  McFarlaud  tells  me,"  said  she,  "that  your  daugh 
ter  wishes  to  assist  us  in  the  work  of  the  house,  as  a  means 
of  defraying  her  expenses." 

"  That  was  what  we  came  for,"  said  Mrs.  Grafton;  "you 
are  Mrs.  McFarland,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Yes;  you  will  excuse  me,  I  suppose  I  should  have 
introduced  myself.  What  kind  of  work  has  she  been 
accustomed  to  do,  and  would  she  be  willing  to  apply  herself 
to,  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  She  has  been  accustomed  to  the  usual  housework 
done  upon  a  farm  and  I  think  would  be  found  faithful,"  said 
the  mother. 

Mary  sat  silently,  looking  first  at  one  of  the  ladies  and 
then  at  the  other,  and  felt  her  heart  sinking  within  her. 
I  low  near  and  dear  her  mother  seemed  to  her,  now  that  she 
seemed  likely,  temporarily,  to  lose  her.  The  very  tones  of 
her  voice,  as  she  talked  with  Mrs.  McFarland,  seemed 
changed.  She  wondered  that  she  had  not  before  noted  how 
soft  and  gentle  was  her  manner  and  expression.  She  shrank 
as  Mrs.  McFarland  glanced  keenly  at  her  while  she  talked. 
Could  she  endure  the  life  at  the  school,  which  did  not  now 


52  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

seem  so  attractive  as  she  pictured  it?  She  could  not  tell ; 
but  of  this  she  felt  assured  :  it  must  now  be  attempted. 

Meantime  the  ladies  had  progressed  so  far  in  the  nego 
tiations  that  at  Mrs.  Grafton's  request  they  went  out  of  the 
room  to  inspect  the  house,  that  the  mother  might  fully 
inform  herself  regarding  the  duties  which  would  be  required 
of  her  daughter  and  that  she  might  see  for  herself  the  room 
she  would  occupy  and  the  persons  she  might  expect  to 
associate  with. 

Mary  was  left  alone,  and  again  the  feelings  of  doubt 
and  discouragement  came  over  her.  This  was  what  it  was 
to  leave  home  and  go  among  strangers  !  How  silent  it  was 
and  how  close  the  air  in  the  room  !  "Ah,  but  this  will  never 
do!"  she  thought,  and  taking  a  volume  from  the  table  she 
began  turning  the  leaves,  and  as  she  became  somewhat 
interested  in  its  contents,  courage  returned  and  she  again 
mentally  resolved  to  bravely  bear  her  part  in  what  she  now 
felt  must  be  the  struggle  of  life  just  opening  before  her. 

Mrs.  Grafton  was  gone  some  time.  When  she  returned 
the  preliminaries  had  been  arranged,  and  it  was  agreed 
that  Mary  should  begin,  in  the  morning,  her  round  of  duties. 

They  returned  at  once  to  the  hotel,  where  Airs.  Grafton 
explained  to  her  daughter  fully  the  situation  at  the  Institute 
and  what  her  duties  would  be.  Mrs.  McFarland  had  insisted 
that  Mary  should  do  what  she  had  termed  "kitchen  work." 
She  held  out  a  faint  hope  that  after  Mary  had  proved  her 
self  both  willing  and  trusty,  that  possibly  she  might  be  able 
to  give  her  a  more  agreeable  position,  but  she  was  very 
politic  and  made  few  promises.  Mary  was  to  be  allowed 
the  evenings  for  study,  but  the  day  would  be  entirely  taken 
up  by  work,  with  the  exception  of  the  hours  occupied  by 
recitations. 

The  prospect  was  not  very  encouraging,  but  it  was  all 
there  was,  and  was  the  best  that  could  be  done.  They  hr.d 
not  expected  much,  and  yet  they  had  hoped  for  more. 

The  next  morning  Mrs.  Grafton  accompanied  her 
daughter  to  the  Institute,  gave  her  a  little  money,  charging 


MARY   GRAFTCN    (Age  15.) 


LOOKING    FORWARD.  55 

her  to  come  immediately  home  if  she  desired  at  any  time  to 
leave,  and  with  many  kisses  and  parting  injunctions,  left 
her  for  the  first  time  among  strangers. 

The  journey  home  was  monotonous  and  tiresome  ;  the 
child  whom  she  had  borne,  watched  over  and  tenderly  cared 
for  had  been  left  behind  and  her  separate  life  begun  !  Some- 
lit  >\v,  Mrs.  Grafton  could  not  help  feeling  as  though  return 
ing  from  a  funeral. 

Arrived  at  Plainville,  she  found  Mr.  Grafton  and  Charlie 
awaiting  her.  Although  she  had  been  absent  only  for  a 
day  or  two,  it  had  been  a  lonesome,  dreary  time  for  them, 
and  Charlie,  especially,  was  overjoyed  at  her  return. 

Mr.  Grafton  had  a  few  purchases  to  make,  and  they 
went  at  once  to  the  store  of  Mr.  Brown,  who,  as  usual,  was 
ready  to  engage  in  conversation,  which  he  had  found,  led  to 
trade  and  subsequent  profit. 

"And  so  you  left  Mary  at  Topeka  ?  "   said  he. 

"  Yes,"  said  he  ;  "I  did  !  " 

"  Was  n't  you  sorry  to  leave  her  among  strangers  ?  " 

"  Why  yes,  I  was  ;  indeed,  I  was  obliged  to  talk  as 
cheerfully  as  possible,  or  we  should  both  have  broken  down; 
Mary  never  left  me  before  ;  but  we  both  thought  it  best  that 
she  should  remain." 

"  Yes,  I  s'pose  it's  all  right,  but  I  should  think  you 
would  want  to  keep  her  to  home  ;  and  then,  it  must  be  ex 
pensive  to  keep  her  there,  ain't  it  ?  " 

"  We  have  made  arrangements  which  will  reduce  the 
expense,"  said  Mrs.  Grafton;  "but  the  cost  of  the  trip, 
books,  incidentals,  clothing  and  the  like  are  still,  for  us, 
quite  heavy." 

u  Mrs,  Grafton  felt  almost  guilty,  in  the  thought  that 
she  was  concealing  the  fact  that  Mary  was  only  a  "kitchen 
girl''  at  the  Institute  and  was  hardly  considered  a  scholar, 
and  yet,  mother-like,  she  could  not  bear  to  relate  the  parti 
culars  ;  it  was  no  body's  business,  she  thought. 


56  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

"  Quite  a  number  of  young  folks  is  talking  of  going 
away  to  school,  now,"  said  Mr.  Baker ;  "and  they  say  John 
Busteed  is  going,  right  off." 

"John  Busteed!"  said  Mrs.  Grafton,  with  some  aston 
ishment  ;  "what  has  induced  him  to  think  of  such  a  thing?" 
"  Why,  it  is  kinder  curious,  considerin'  that  he  never 
would  go  to  school  here  ;  but  they  have  a  new  kind  of  col 
lege  now-a-days  to  teach  business,  they  say,  and  it's  to  one 
of  them  he  is  talking  of  going,  I  believe  ;  there  is  a  business 
college  there,  ain't  there  ?" 

"  Why,  I  believe  so,"  said  Mrs.  Grafton. 
Why  this  announcement  should  affect  Mrs.  Grafton, 
she  could  not  tell  ;  she  told  herself  that  this  was  no  concern 
of  hers  ;  that  what  John  did  or  did  not  do,  could  not  be  a 
matter  of  interest  to  her ;  and  yet  she  could  not  bear  to 
tliink  of  his  ever  being  in  the  same  city  with  Mary.  Slight 
as  was  the  occasion,  she  felt  troubled  at  the  thought.  She 
knew,  as  did  every  one  in  the  vicinity,  of  his  evil  ways,  and 
somehow  could  not  shake  off  the  thought  that  his  going  to 
Topeka  was  in  some  way  connected  with  his  knowledge  of 
Mary's  present  residence. 

Life  with  the  Grafton's  passed  soberly  along.  Letters 
from  Mary  were  eagerly  looked  for  and  read.  She  was 
making  progress,  she  wrote,  and  although  her  situation  was 
not  altogher  what  she  would  have  chosen,  still  she  made  no 
complaint,  spoke  eagerly  of  the  pleasure  she  hoped  for, 
when  permitted  to  return,  and  desired  them  to  dismiss  all 
anxious  fears  regarding  herself. 

John  Busteed  had  gone  to  Topeka.  He  was  said  to  be 
attending  the  commercial  college  there,  but  vague  rumors 
from  time  to  time  reached  Plainville  of  rioutous  doings  and 
sundry  escapades  at  Kansas  City  and  elsewhere,  which  were 
received  much  as  a  matter  of  course.  His  father  was  not  a 
man  to  talk  much  of  his  affairs,  but  expressions  from  him 
at  different  times  were  reported,  from  which  it  was  gathered 
that  the  sou  was  causing  his  father  to  expend  what  were 
considered  large  sums  in  his  maintenance. 


LOOKING    FORWARD.  57 

One  day  Mrs.  Jones,  a  neighbor  of  the  Graftons,  "ran 
in"  for  a  little  visit,  to  talk,  as  she  said,  "just  a  minute." 

"  I  thought  I  ought  to  tell  you,"  said  she,  "what  they 
are  saying  about  Mary.  John  Busteed  has  writ  home  that 
she  ain't  going  to  that  fine  school  at  all;  that  she  is  just 
working  out;  says  she  is  just  a  hired  girl  there.  Says  he 
is  acquainted  with  some  of  the  girls  that  goes  there,  and 
they  are  high-flyers,  too,  I  guess,  if  all  I  hear  is  true.  You 
see  my  boy  Dick  got  it  from  Ben  Thompson,  up  to  to\vn, 
and  John  writes  to  him  telling  what  fine  times  he's  a  hav 
ing.  He  says  he  goes  to  the  play  about  every  night,  and 
he  can  go  with  the  best  of  'em.  I  don't  believe  it,  of  course, 
but  some  of  the  things  they  hint  about  is  just  awful  !  He 
says  that  the  girls  get  permission  to  go  to  visit  friends  in 
the  city,  after  school  hours,  and  then  don't  go,  you  know, 
but  go  off  for  buggy  rides  and  to  the  theatre,  and  dear 
knows  what  all.  I  thought  I  ought  to  tell  you,  you  are 
always  so  careful  about  Alar}-,  and  so  particular.  And  John 
says  money  and  fine  clothes  is  all  any  of  'em  cares  for,  and 
that  enough  of  them  will  carry  any  fellow  through,  if  he  is 
careful  to  keep  straight  in  the  right  places.  You  see,  John's 
father  gave  him  letters,  when  he  went  away,  to  some  of  the 
big-bugs  he  knows  there,  and  that  gave  him  a  chance  to  go 
to  their  houses,  and  he  says  he  knows  when  to  put  on  the 
right  kind  of  a  face.  Says  he  goes  to  church,  some  of  the 
time,  nice  as  a  pin,  and  he  writ  something  about  Mary,  too. 
I  thought  I  oup'ht  to  tell  you." 


LOOKING  FORWARD. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

LIFE'S  TRIALS. 

RS.    JONES    was    a   clever,   good- 
hearted  soul,  and  really  intended 
to    do    the    Graftons  a    favor  by 
repeating  the  stories    in  circula 
tion,  which  she  had  heard;  still, 
Mrs.  Grafton  could  not  listen  to 
vulgar  and  scandalous  tales  without  a 
feeling  of  personal  injury  arising  within 
her  breast.    Mary's  name — her  daughter's 
name — had    been    lightly    used,    and    al 
though  the  closing  inquiry  failed  to  draw 
out   any    direct    charge    against   her   fair 
name    or    standing    at    school,     yet    the 
poisonous  breath  of  suspicion  had  been  suffered  to  fall  upon 
her,  and  this  was   enough   to   awaken   in   the   mind   of  the 
mother  an  unrest  and  concern  to  which  she  had  heretofore 
been  a  stranger.     Mary  had  been  reared  and  most  carefully 
nurtured  at  home,  her  every  thought  and  wish  as  open  as 
the  day ;  her  mother  had  been  her  constant  companion,  and 
between  the  two  had  grown  up  that  perfect  confidence  which 
the  wise  mother  has  found  to  be  a   source  of  control  un- 
equaled.     Mrs.  Grafton  had  felt  that  her  daughter's  every 
thought  was  known  to  her,  and  in   this  knowledge  she  had 
trusted.     Mary  was  safe ;  she  knew  it  must  be  so,  and  yet — 
and  yet !     Ah  !  the  anguish  of  doubt.     What  should  she  do? 
Whoever  has,    in    youth,    been   religiously  instructed, 
turns  for  help,  in  moments  of  distress,   to  that  great  Hope, 
within  the  veil.     Years  may  pass,  and  creeds  decay.     Philo 
sophy  may  teach  and  have  her  claims  allowed.     Doubt  and 
deceit  may  have  done  their  work  ;    and   yet,  in  the  supreme 
moments  of  life  the  spirit  of  man  rises  by  a  demand  of  its 
own  nature,  instinctively,  to  its  source ! 


\    fq=* 

vN       ») 


LOOKING    FORWARD  6 1 

Thus  it  was  with  Mrs  Grafton,  after  her  kind-hearted. 
but  garrulous,  neighbor  had  taken  her  departure  She 
walked  from  room  to  room  and  back  again,  in  the  little 
cottage,  and  all  the  thought  that  formed  itself  in  her  mind 
was  :  "  God  help  us  !  God  help  us  !" 

Presently  she  became  calmer  and,  reali/.ing  that  active 
exertion  was,  under  the  circumstances,  best  for  her,  she 
hurriedly  began  the  preparations  for  the  evening  meal. 

Mr.  Grafton  was  engaged  in  moving  a  fence  from  one 
location  to  another,  upon  the  farm,  and  as  the  weather  was 
mild,  little  Charlie  Avas  with  him,  riding  upon  the  wagon 
in >in  one  point  to  another.  Mr.  Grafton  liked  to  have  the 
little  fellow  with  him  and  talked  to  him  as  though  he  were 
interested  with  himself  in  the  progress  of  the  work  in  hand  ; 
and  indeed  he  was  ;  at  least  Charlie  felt  himself  to  be  of 
great  importance.  Didn't  he  hold  the  horses  while  his 
father  was  loading  up,  and  did  he  not  drive  one  load  almost 
all  the  way  alone  ? 

But  now  the  work  of  the  day  was  done,  and  Mrs.  Graf- 
ton  saw  them  drive  into  the  yard,  near  the  stable.  Mr. 
Grafton  remained  to  care  for  the  team,  but  Charlie  came 
running  in,  eager  to  tell  his  mother  of  his  efficiency  in 
helping  his  father  with  the  work. 

"  Oh,  mother,  we  got  it  all  over!"  said  he. 

Mrs.  Grafton  replied  cheerfully,  but  very  soberly,  to 
the  little  fellow.  Child-like,  he  instantly  divined  that 
something  was  wrong. 

"  Mamma,''  said  he,  looking  sharply  Jit  her,  "  you  have 
been  crying !" 

"No,"  said  she  rather  doubtfully;  "I  don't  think  I 
have  cried  any  !" 

"  I  guess  you  have,"  said  the  child  ;  "for  your  eyes  are 
just  as  shiny  as  they  can  be !" 

Mrs.  Grafton  caught  the  little  fellow  in  her  arms,  and 
pressed  him  to  her  heart.  Giving  him  a  kiss,  she  said  : 
"  Now,  go  and  tell  papa  supper  is  most  ready !" 


62  LOOKING   FORWARD 

Seated  at  the  table,  Mrs.  Grafton  told  her  husband 
what  Mrs.  Jones  had  said.  His  countenance  fell,  and  the 
dark  lines  which  at  times  disfigured  his  face  were  plainly 
apparent. 

"Is  everything  turning  against  us?"  said  he. 

Mrs  Grafton  had  had  time  for  reflection,  and  was  now 
disposed  to  look  more  composedly  upon  the  matter  than 
at  first. 

"Why,  no  indeed,  George!''  said  she;  we  haven't 
heard  a  word  from  Mary,  you  know,  and  so  we  can  say  we 
know  nothing  that  should  trouble  us." 

"That's  just  it,"  said  he;  "we  don't  know  anything 
about  what  may  be  going  on  at  Topeka,  and  that's  what 
we  ought  to  know.  You  ought  to  go  at  once  and  see  Mary, 
and  I  have  n't  a  dollar  to  send  you  with." 

"  I  know  it,  George;  but  I  have  been  thinking  the 
matter  over  and  my  confidence  in  Mary  is  not  yet  weak 
ened.  She  will  not  deceive  us;  and  if  we  write,  she  will 
answer  truthfully.  I  should  like  to  go,  but  that  with  us  is 
not  to  be  thought  of;  still,  I  feel  confident  it  is  all  for  the 
best.  Don't  you  know  how  Mary  promised  you,  when  she 
went  away,  to  do  nothing  which  she  knew  we  would  not 
approve?  Surely,  you  have  not  lost  faith  in  her,  so  soon? 

"  No,"  said  he;  "  I  have  n't,  but  in  the  life  of  a  young 
girl  these  things  are  so  terribly  important  that  one  can't 
help  feeling  anxious  Well,  we  must  write  at  once  and 
tell  her  all  that  is  being  said,  and  of  our  anxiety,  and  ask 
her  to  tell  us  all  about  the  Institute.  It  is  all  we  can  do. 
Poverty  holds  us  as  in  a  vise." 

Supper  ended,  Mr.  Grafton  went  out  at  once  to  do  the 
usual  evening  work  upon  the  farm.  Hurrying  through 
this,  he  came  at  once  into  the  house  and  sat  down  to  write. 
A  long  letter  was  soon  finished,  and  saddling  a  horse,  he 
went  at  once1  to  Plain ville,  that  the  letter  might  go  upon 
the  early  morning  train.  The  town  was  but  a  few  miles 
away,  and  yet  it  was  very  late  before  he  returned. 


LOOKING    FORWARD. 


The  winter  passed  slowly  away.  Upon  a  prairie  farm 
it  is  impossible  for  a  farmer  to  profitably  employ  himself 
except  in  feeding  or  fattening  animals,  and  with  most  it 


is  simply  a  period  of  expense  and  weary  waiting  for  the 
opening  of  a  new  season.  Without  the  capital  necessary 
to  engage  in  stock-raising,  the  business  of  cropping  is 
almost  of  necessity  a  failure.  Mr.  (Jrafton  had  only  barely 
escaped  financial  ruin  the  previous  season,  and  now  that 
another  year  had  dawned  and  another  spring  begun,  he 
saw  only  a  repetition  of  the  past  in  store  for  the  future. 
His  affairs  were  not  in  quite  so  good  trim  as  they  had 
been  the  previous  year.  Some  losses  had  occured,  slight 
in  themselves,  yet  to  him  they  proved  quite  serious. 
Almost  without  money,  a  few  dollars  must  yet  be  sent  to 
the  dear  girl,  so  bravely  and  patiently  struggling  against 
the  social  slights  and  ostracism  of  her  position,  in  the  hope 
of  a  better  and  brighter  day. 

As  the  spring  advanced,  poor  old  Jim,  the  faithful 
horse,  who,  like  his  master,  had  struggled  on,  honestly 
endeavoring  to  meet  the  demands  upon  his  time  and 
strength,  but  unlike  him,  without  hope  in  the  future, 
suddenly  fell  sick,  and  it  was  plain  his  days  of  service 
were  over.  Mr.  Grafton  did  what  he  could, — summoned  a 
kind-hearted  neighbor,  who  was  supposed  to  be  wise  in 


64  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

horse-flesh,  to  his  assistance; — but  the  wise  man  shook  his 
head:  "  It's  no  use,"  he  said;  "you  can't  do  anything  for 
him;  it's  a  bad  case  of  lung  fever,  and  in  his  enfeebled 
condition  and  considering  his  age,  he'll  die." 

But  Grafton  would  not  have  it  so.  "He  has  done  hist 
best  for  me,"  he  said.  "  He  never  failed  me,  and  at  least 
he  shall  not  want  for  care." 

The  neighbor  took  his  departure,  but  Mr.  Grafton 
went  at  once  to  work.  Mrs.  Grafton  put  the  wash-boiler 
upon  the  kitchen  stove,  water  was  heated,  and  together 
they  watched  and  worked  through  the  livelong  night. 
As  the  light  began  to  show  in  the  east,  the  faithful  beast 
stretched  himself  upon  the  stable  floor  and,  with  a  parting 
struggle,  was  gone. 

"  He  is  dead,"  said  Mr.  Grafton;  and  as  he  spoke  the 
tears,  which  lie  had  endeavored  to  hold  in  check,  refused 
longer  to  be  controlled.  Mrs.  Grafton  wept  aloud.  "  To 
think,"  said  she;  "that  the  poor,  faithful  fellow  never  can 
have  any  remuneration  for  all  his  toil  for  us,  is  too  bad! 
too  bad!  Life  is  so  hard — so  ruthless  and  so  cruel!" 

Spring  found  the  Graftons  compelled  to  practice  the 
closest  and  most  pinching  economy  to  provide  even  for  the 
daily  returning  wants  of  the  body.  To  add  to  the  gravity 
of  their  situation,  the  payment  of  the  interest  on  the 
mortgage  upon  the  farm,  which  had  been  deferred,  was, 
now  demanded.  The  agent  of  the  loan  company  at  the- 
county  seat  wrote  that  the  company  had  instructed  him 
to  make  a  collection,  at  once,  of  all  amounts  due,  and  that 
no  further  time  would  be  given. 

In  consultation  with  his  wife,  Mr.  Grafton  had  almost 
determined  to  give  up  the  effort  to  retain  the  farm.  He  felt 
that  without  a  great  change  in  his  affairs  took  place,  lie 
mnst  shortly  be  compelled  to  do  so,  and  the  thought  occured 
to  him  that  he  might  be  able  to  make  an  arrangement  with 
some  one  who  would  be  willing  to  take  the  farm,  subject  to 
the  mortgage. 


LOOKING    FORWARD. 


Mrs.  Grafton  was  loath  to  give  it  up,  and  yet  she  could 
offer  no  plan  which  seemed  likely  to  succeed  in  holding  it. 
"  If  we  give  it  up,  where  shall  we  go  and  what  shall  we  do?'* 
said  she. 


66 


LOOKING    FORWARD. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

BRAXCHTOX. 

HAT     something    should    be   done, 
was    plain.     Money     must    be    had 
and    payments     made,    and    it    was 
finally  decided,    after    much  careful 
thought,     that     the     better     course 
would  be  for  Mr.  Graftoii   to  go  to 
Branchton,    the  count}-  seat,  which 
was  distant   some  thirty  miles,  and 
ascertain  Avhat  could  be  done ;  it 
being  plain  that  either  the  farm 
must  be  given  up  or  more  money 
raised  upon  it. 

The  farm  upon  which  the 
Graftoii s  lived  consisted  of  a  quarter 
section,  or  one-hundred  and  sixty 
acres,  of  good  land.  The  house  was 
a  small  and  inexpensive  cottage ;  the 

stables  and  other  out-buildings,  scarcely  worth}'  the  name, 
being  cheap  structures,  intended  at  the  time  of  construction 
as  only  temporary  make-shifts,  which  might  answer  until 
better  could  be  erected.  As  is  usual  under  such  circum 
stances,  however,  it  had  been  found  impossible  to  replace 
them,  and  they  had  been  patched  and  mended  from  year  to 
year,  with  a  new  board  here  and  there,  slight  additions 
made  and  changes  effected,  with  but  little  substantial 
improvement.  The  farm  was  an  average  Kansas  home 
stead,  and  was  valued  at  some  three  or  four  thousand  dollars. 
Upon  this  there  was  a  mortgage  of  one  thousand ;  this, 
having  been  placed  some  years  before  the  opening  of  our 
story,  bore  interest  at  the  rate  of  ten  per  cent,  per  annum, 
and  called  for  an  annual  tribute  of  one  hundred  dollars. 
Mr.  Graftoii  had  been  told  that  he  could  secure  a  larger 
loan  upon  the  farm,  by  agents  of  the  different  loan  com- 


; 

W!  ^  i  • 


LOOKING    FORWARD.  69 

panics,  but  he  well  knew  that  if  he  found  it  impossible  to 
pay  the  one  he  now  carried,  that  to  add  to  the  burden  made 
it  certain  that  the  farm  must  be  given  up.  But  now  neces 
sity  forced  him  to  immediate  action.  Either  the  farm  must 
be  sold  or  a  new  and  larger  loan  secured.  It  was  impossible 
otherwise  to  pay  the  interest  upon  the  mortgage  now  long 
over-due. 

Bright  and  earl}-  one  morning,  Mr.  Grafton  harnessed 
his  horse  to  the  farm  wagon,  and  placing  therein  feed  for 
his  team,  a  couple  of  loaves  of  bread  and  some  boiled  ham 
for  himself,  with  blankets  for  his  bed,  drove  slowly  down 
the  lane  and  out  upon  the  highway  towards  Branchtou. 
As  he  turned  for  a  last  look  at  the  place  he  called  home,  he 
saw  his  wife  and  little  boy  watching  him  from  where  they 
.stood,  just  outside  and  near  the  corner  of  the  house;  he 
waived  a  hasty  adieu  and  the  next  instant  an  intervening 
tree  shut  off  the  view,  and  he  was  alone.  As  he  drove- 
slowly  along,  his  reflections  were  strangely  mixed.  Must 
he  lose  the  farm?  And  what  then?  He  was  not  likely 
to  have  enough  left  to  enable  him  to  engage  in  business  of 
any  kind,  and  although  he  felt  himself  competent  to  act  as 
clerk  or  assistant,  still  he  knew  that,  almost  without  excep 
tion,  employers  desired  young  men,  and  disliked  to  employ 
middle-aged  or  old  men  as  assistants.  Just  what  could  be 
done,  he  could  not  say ;  the  future  was  not  encouraging, 
and  yet,  when  he  contrasted  his  position  with  that  of  others, 
he  felt  cause  for  thankfulness;  how  happy  was  his  home? 
was  ever  man  more  blessed  than  he  ?  Something  must 
happen  to  his  advantage,  he  felt  sure  ! 

It  is  only  the  made-up  stories  that  end  with  everybody 
happy  and  contented.  The  comedy  of  errors  which  we  call 
life  ends  with  the  tragedy  of  death  !  Disguise  it  as  we  may, 
the  grave  is  the  goal  which  all  are  certain  to  reach,  and  the 
author  who  would  sketch  the  happenings  of  actual  residence 
upon  this  earth,  without  other  motive  than  to  set  down  the 
realities  of  existence,  must  content  himself  with  a  recital  of 
many  things  which  he  could  wish  were  not  true. 


7o 


LOOKING    FORWARD. 


Thirty  miles  is  a  fair  day's  travel  for  a  farmer's  heavy 
team,  and  it  was  late  in  the  afternoon  as  Mr.  Graftoii  rode 
into  Braiichtoii.  As  he  drove  up  to  a  stable,  a  man  canie 
out  and  accosted  him  with,  "  Want  to  stop  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  guess  so  !"  said  Mr.  Graftoii.  "  AVhat  do  you 
charge  for  a  pair  of  horses  to  hay  " 

"  Fifty  cents  a  day  ;    you  care  for  your  own  team." 


"And  a  chance  to  sleep  in  the  hay  ?"  said  the  farmer. 

"  Oh  yes,  they  mostty  do,"  said  the  man.  "  If  you  are 
going  to  stop,  drive  into  the  wagon  yard ;  I'll  open  the 
gate ;"  and  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  he  swung  open 
the  heavy  gate,  and  Mr.  Grafton  drove  into  the  enclosure, 
where  a  number  of  farm  wagons  had  already  preceded  him. 
Unharnessing  his  team,  he  led  them  to  the  trough  in  the 
yard,  gave  the  horses  what  water  they  wanted,  and  placed 
them  in  the  stalls  which  the  hostler  pointed  out.  When  he 


I.OOKINV,     1-okWAKI).  71 

had  fed  and  cared  for  the  team,  washed  at  the  pump  in  the 
stable  yard  and  eaten  of  the  bread  and  meat  in  the  wagon, 
the  day  was  spent  and  evening  approached.  The  streets 
were  brilliantly  lighted,  and  invited  him  forth.  Giving  a 
parting  look  at  his  horses,  he  saw  that  each  had  eaten  his 
corn  and  was  busily  engaged  in  munching  hay.  "  There ! 
old  fellows,"  said  he  ;  "I  guess  you  are  all  right,  and  I'll 
take  a  turn  through  the  town." 

Sauntering  carelessly  down  the  street,  jostled  by  people 
of  all  classes  and  conditions,  he  could  not  but  wonder  at  the 
eager  air  pervading  the  whole.  Each  seemed  intent  on 
something  important ;  even  the  little  knot  of  men  gathered 
about  the  story-teller  at  the  corner  were  anxious  and  ex 
pectant,  awaiting  the  denouement  supposed  to  lie  hidden  at 
the  end.  The  minds  of  all  appeared  occupied  with  the 
happenings  or  business  of  the  moment ;  reflection,  there 
was  none.  All  were  influenced  and  moved  upon  by  the 
doings  of  others,  and  although  to  Grafton  this  had  been  a 
familiar  sight  in  years  gone  by;  yet,  as  he  had  now  been  for 
a  number  of  years  comparatively  secluded,  living  as  he  did 
iipon  a  farm,  the  difference  in  manner  of  thought  and  life 
between  the  farmer  and  townsman  was  the  more  forcibly 
impressed  upon  him.  The  saying  of  the  wise  man  came 
again,  with  added  force  :  "  Iron  sharpeneth  iron  ;  so  a  man 
sharpeneth  the  countenance  of  his  friend!"  Yes,  that  was 
true  ;  but  was  it  best  for  the  man  ?  Was  man  a  mere  hu 
man  fox  whose  sole  aim  in  life  was  compassed  by  the  effort 
to  obtain  advantage  which  other  foxes  should  repel  ? 

As  he  wandered  down  the  street  his  ears  were  saluted 
by  the  sound  of  a  drum  in  the  distance  ;  as  he  approached, 
he  found  that  a  detatchment  of  the  despised  Salvation  Army 
was  conducting  a  service  upon  the  street.  A  crowd  sur 
rounded  them,  composed  of  all  kinds  of  people.  The  leader 
was  exhorting  all  to  flee  from  what  she  described  as  "the 
wrath  to  come."  With  earnest  and  somewhat  incoherent 
words,  she  appealed  to  her  hearers.  All  listened  respect 
fully.  She  told  of  nothing  new;  no  charm  of  manner 


LOOKI\<!    FORWARD. 


invested  her  words  with  power ;  evidently  she  was  unedu 
cated,  and  in  personal  appearance  inferior,  and  yet  hundreds 
hung  upon  her  speech.  Why  was  it?  Grafton  was  not 
what  is  termed  a  religious  man,  he  did  not  believe  the  iron- 
bound  creed  which  she  appeared  to  teach,  and  yet  he  felt 
the  power  of  her  earnest  utterances.  What  was  it  that 
attracted  him  ?  Ah !  thought  he ;  these  people  own  the 
bond  of  human  brotherhood ;  no  desire  for  gain  influences 
their  action;  despised  and  rejected  of  men,  they  yet  seek  to 
serve. 

Deep  down  in  the 
nature  of  every  man 
there  exists  a  chord 
of  sympathy,  which 
respond  s  to  the 
slightest  manifest 
ation  of  genuine 
interest  in  his  wel 
fare.  All  own  its 
power.  It  exists; 
the  heart  of  man  does 
beat  i  n  sympathy 
with  that  of  his  fel 
low,  and  upon  this 
hangs  the  hope  of 
humanity.  And  this 
bond  of  brotherhood, 
of  s  y  m  p  a  t  h  y,  de 
pends  upon  no  ex 
ternal  aid.  It  is  not  the  creature  of  custom,  or  of  man- 
made,  or  priestly  law ;  it  is  a  natural  force  inherent  in  the 
nature  of  man  and  beast.  Cattle  herding  upon  the  open 
plain,  join  in  defense;  even  hogs  do  the  same  when  sum 
moned  by  the  cries  of  a  fellow.  A  crowd  of  men  will  not 
see  a  weakling  abused  at  the  hands  of  a  stranger;  and 
wrong,  fully  exposed,  is  half  cured. 


I.OOKINV,    FORWARD.  73 

By  means  of  the  printed  page,  the  public  press,  and 
that  inter-communication,  which  in  our  day  is  constantly 
increasing,  men  are  brought  more  and  more  into  the  rela 
tions  of  brotherhood,  their  wants  and  wishes  are  made 
known,  and  that  community  of  feeling  produced  which  is 
slowly  revolutionizing  the  world,  and  which  will  continue  to 
•operate  with  added  and  increasing  force  until  the  kingdoms 
of  this  world  shall  become  the  kingdoms  of  righteousness, 
justice  and  peace. 

The  Salvationists  took  up  their  line  of  march,  singing 
us  they  went,  a  boisterous  song,  but  one  removed  from  the 
ridiculous.  Grafton  turned  away  and  sought  the  stable ; 
looking  in  upon  his  faithful  friends  and  finding  them  still 
contentedly  eating  their  hay,  he  got  his  blankets  from  the 
wagon  and  ascended  to  the  hay-loft ;  stepping  over  first  one 
and  then  another,  who  had  already  composed  themselves 
for  the  night,  he  wrapped  himself  in  the  blankets  as  best  he 
could,  and  soon  was  lost  in  sleep. 

Harly  the  next  morning  he  was  astir  and  attending  to 
the  wants  of  his  team.  A  hasty  toilet  at  the  pump,  more 
bread  and  meat  from  the  wagon,  and  he  was  ready  for  the 
business  of  the  day.  As  soon  as  the  office  of  the  loan  agent 
was  opened  for  business,  he  was  there.  Having  a  slight 
acquaintance  with  Mr.  James,  the  agent,  that  gentleman 
accosted  him  with,  "  Hello,  Grafton  ;  got  my  note,  did  you?" 

"  Yes,  I  received  the  notice,  and  have  come  for  the  pur 
pose  of  making  some  arrangement." 

"  Ready  to  pay  the  interest  ?" 

"No,"  said  he ;  "I  am  unable  to  pay  it  to-day." 

"  Well,  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?  You  know 
my  orders  were  peremptory!" 

"I  suppose,"  said  Mr.  Grafton,  "that  if  nothing  else 
could  be  done,  a  new  and  larger  loan  might  be  made  ?" 

"  Yes,  and  unless  you  have  the  money,  1  expect  that 
will  be  the  only  way  you  can  do." 

"  I  would  sell  the  farm  if  I  could  get  anything  near 
what  it  was  worth,"  said  Mr.  Grafton,  rather  ruefully. 


74 


LOOKING  FORWARD. 


"Well,  now,  that's  the  thing  you  just  can't  do!''  said 
Mr.  James,  very  positively. 

"  No  sale  for  land,  eh  ?" 

"  O,  Lord,  no  !  ain't  been  a  regular  bona  fide  sale  of  a 
farm,  I  don't  know  the  day  when." 

"  Why,  I  occasionally  see  notices  of  transfers  in  the 
county  papers,"  said  the  farmer. 

"Oh,  well,  you  know  how  that  is,  I  'spose.  They  are 
j  ust  turned  over ;  same  as  if  you  had  already  got  as  heavy 
a  mortgage  as  could  be  placed  on  your  farm,  and  could  n't 
pay  the  interest,  then  sometimes  the  company,  to  save  ex 
pense  of  foreclosing,  gives  the  holder  a  trifle  to  make  clear 
title ;  but  you  are  in  a  pretty  fair  shape  to  what  a  great 
many  are.  I  can  get  you  sixteen,  and  may  be  eighteen 
hundred,  on  your  place ;  then  you  can  pay  off  the  old  mort 
gage  and  have  something  left." 

"  My  farm  is  worth  near  four  thousand  dollars  !" 

"  Yes,  if  you  could  get  it !" 

"  What's  the  reason  I  can't  get  somewhere  near  what 
it's  worth  ? 

"When  so  many  are  being  transferred  at  about  the 
face  of  the  mortgage,  what  would  be  the  need  of  a  buyer 
paying  more  ?  You  see,  money  is  so  blamed  scarce  that 
men  can't  get  it  to  meet  obligations.  That  brings  every 
thing  right  down  to  bed-rock." 

'  Then  there  is  no  way  of  obtaining  money  except  by 
borrowing  at  high  rates  of  interest  ?  Grain  does  n't  really 
bring  as  much  as  it  costs  to  raise  it." 

'  That's  about  the  only  show  for  money,  and  grain 
brings  no  more,  because  the  demand  is  light;  there's  too 
much  of  it  raised." 


Papa  WeVe  Got  Home. 


FORWARD. 

M    . 


77 


CHAPTKR     IX. 

THK     !,. \\VVKR. 

( )\\  can  there  be  !(>(>•  jinu-li  wheat  raised, 
when  the  price  of  flour  remains  so  high 
and  so  many  in  the  large  cities  lack 
bread  ?"  said  ( Jrafton. 

"Oh,  well,   I'm   not    going  to   get  into  a 
discussion  with  you    on. -political  economv. 
I  know  well  enough   that,  morally   speak 
ing,  something  is  out  of  joint,  but    I'm   no 
reformer.        My  ..business i  is     to     make     a 
living  and   something  over,  and    whatever 
-  passes  current  in  a  business  way  is  good 
enough    for    me ;     I    can't    change    the 
general  run  of  things,  if  I  was  to  die  for 
it.     So  I'Ve   pretty/  much    concluded  to 
let  'em  slide,  and  if  business  in   general 
IS  run  on  a  wrong  basis,  why   I'm   not  to  blame  for  it." 
11  Who  is  to  blame?" 

"  Oh,  everybody,  I  reckon  ;  and  as  what  is  every 
body's  business  is  nobody's  business,-  nobody  feels 
specially  concerned." 
u  Now,  Mr.  James,"  said  the  farmer,  "you  are  a  prac 
tical  man,  a  shrewd  man,  and  a  lawyer,  aird  have  often,  no 
doubt,  considered  the  fact  that  those  who  produce  the  wealth 
of  the  world  get  but  a  small  share  of  it ;  that,  in  fact,  as 
things  go,  the  man  who  honestly  spends  his  life  in  produc 
ing  the  real  wealth  of  the  world  stan-ds-  no  chance  of 
retaining  in  his  own  hands  more  than  a  very  small  share  of 
what  is  rightfully  his.  Schemes  and  plans  of  one  sort  and 
another,  mostly  under  the  protection  -of  law,  take  from  him 
here  a  slice  and  there  a  portion,  until  he:  is  only  allowed  to 
retain,  after  all  exchanges  are  made,-  barely  enough  to  live 
upon  ;  and,  as  you  know,  while  the  original  producer  of  all 
values, — the  laborer, — is,  by  means  of  invention  and 
improvement,  annually  producing  more-  and  more  of  the 
good  things  of  life,  the  amount  taken  from  *ach  producer  is 


78  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

increasing  in  a  far  greater  ratio.  Now  what  I  want  to  ask 
you  is  not  whether  you  think  all  this  morally  right — for 
you  agree  that  it  cannot  be — but  whether  you  think  there 
is  absolutely  no  remedy  ?" 

"  That's  a  mighty  big  question!" 

"  Yes,  I  know  it,  but  I  want  to  know  what  you  think  ?" 

"Well,  if  the  present  manner  of  doing  the  business  of 
the  world  is  wrong,  there  ought  to  be  a  remedy,  had  n't 
there?" 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  I  am  an  optimist ;  I  believe  in  the  final  triumph 
of  right?" 

"  Then  you  do  not  believe  there  can  be  a  wrong  with 
out  a  remedy  ?M 

"  See  here,  Grafton,  it  occurs  to  me  that  you  are  getting 
me  into  an  argument,  after  all!" 

"  Oh,  well,  it's  yet  early  and  you  have  no  other  cus 
tomer  just  now,  and  as  you  are  a  man  of  affairs  and  a  keen 
business  man,  I  would  just  like  to  know  what  you  think  on 
this  question  ?"  said  Mr.  Grafton. 

"  Question  :  why  are  you  pulling  the  whole  cook-shop 
on  me ; — capital  and  labor,  God  and  mammon  ?" 

"No;  I  simply  ask  you  whether,  in  your  judgment, 
there  is  any  remedy  for  a  condition  of  affairs  which  you 
acknowledge  does  not  square  with  equal  and  exact  justice 
to  man?" 

"  Well,  Grafton,  I  can  tell  you  this  that,  there  is  not 
the  slightest  chance  in  God's  world  for  any  improvement 
until  what  we  call  the  upper  classes  get  woke  up  and  move 
in  this  matter.  Mankind  is  moved  from  above.  Mental 
force  and  improvement  operates  from  above,  downward. 
It  don't  go  the  other  way.  I  expect  you  look  on  the  laborer 
and  producer  as  practically  enslaved, — and,  in  a  certain 
sense,  he  is  ;  for  whoever  is  in  a  position  where  the  profits 
of  his  labor  are  taken  from  him,  is  the  slave  of  the  parties 
who  get  the  benefit  of  his  labors.  Really,  that  is  the 
essence  of  slavery;  to  have  the  profits  of  your  labor 


LOOKING    I  OR\VARD.  79 

taken  from  you  without  your  being  able  to  help  yourself. 
Suppose  that  we  admit  that  the  producer  of  all  values, — the 
laborer, — is  a  slave;  new  I  just  want  to  tell  you  that,  since 
the  beginning  of  the  world,  slaves  never  have  freed  them 
selves,  and  they  never  will.  There  is  only  one  instance 
where  they  are  said  to  have  done  it,  and  the  evidence  on 
that  is  all  ex  pan 'c;  it's  just  their  account  of  it.  The  He 
brews  got  away  from  Pharoah  and  the  Egyptians,  borrowed 
all  their  jewelry,  stole  right  and  left,  and  decamped — run 
away.  I  don't  know  much  about  that  case  ;  they  say  God 
helped  them ;  sent  them  dry  shod  through  the  Red  Sea,  and 
•drowned  the  Egyptians  who  pursued.  I  don't  know  much 
about  that,  but  if  God  actually  performed  miracles  and  set 
aside  the  laws  of  nature  for  their  benefit,  that's  all  right; 
they  had  to  win  ;  but  it  is  safe  to  say  that  no  other  set  of 
toilers  will  free  themselves  until  more  miracles  are  per 
formed  ;  I'm  not  looking  for  anything  of  that  sort,  and  I 
don't  believe  you  are.  You  've  read  history,  you  know  how 
that  runs ;  there's  no  instance  to  the  contrary ;  slaves, 
toilers,  laborers,  have  never  freed  themselves,  where  it  was 
to  the  interest  of  the  masters  to  retain  their  hold.  The 
French  Revolution  is  the  only  instance  where  the  lower 
classes  ever  got  the  upper  hand,  and  that  was  only  an 
insurrection  ;  it  was  soon  put  down,  and  they  gladly  wel 
comed  an  Emperor  who  used  the  whole  French  nation  as  a 
plaything.  Now,  Grafton,  I  expect  you  've  an  idea  that  the 
•working  people  of  the  country,  because  they  have  a  majority 
in  numbers  and  the  right  to  vote,  are  going  to  free  them 
selves  from  the  exactions  of  capital.  Well,  now,  they  '11 
never  do  it,  and  yet  I  don't  say  that  they  ought  n't  to." 

"  You  haven't  answered  my  question  yet,"  said  Grafton; 
'''you  admit  the  wrong;  is  there  a  remedy?" 

"Why  I  told  you  that  I  thought  that  finally  there 
\\rould  be!" 

"Well,  what  is  it?" 

uWhy,  of  course  I  can  only  give  you  my  opinion  ;  I  am 
sure,  though,  that  the  laborer  can  never  lift  himself;  that 


8O  I.OOKINC,    FORWARD. 

some  power  exterior  to  himself  must  do  it,  if  it  is  ever  done.'* 

"  Is  there  any  power  that  will  do  it  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  think  there  is.  Public  opinion,  the  general 
average  judgment  of  society,  is  such  a  power;  it  really  gov 
erns  us,  and  if  I  mistake  not,  this  power  is  being  exerted  in 
the  direction  of  a  change,  but  it  proceeds  entirely  from  what 
are  sometimes  called  the  upper  classes,  the  thinkers,  the 
educators.  What  the  laborer  himself  thinks  exerts  no 
appreciable  influence  upon  the  mass  of  society.  As  long  r.s 
the  preachers  tell  the  people  that  the  powers  that  be  are 
ordained  of  ( lod  ;  that  they  must  not  resist  evil  and  that 
they  must  bear  all  things,  hoping  for  a  reward  in  another 
world,  there  '11  be  no  change  in  present  methods.  The 
churches  form  the  great  bulwark  of  the  present  system,  and 
for  the  most  part  they  pay  a  good  deal  of  attention  to  the 
heaviest-paying  pews.  But  these  questions,  although  as 
old  as  man,  are  comparatively  new  to  the  mass  of  thinkers 
in  this  country;  still,  I  think  I  can  see  a  change  taking 
place." 

u  Now,  I  have  answered  your  question ;  what  are  you 
going  to  do  about  the  mortgage?'' 

"  It  seems  that  there  is  no  other  course  open  to  me 
except  to  make  a  new  one, ' '  said  the  farmer. 

"  No,  that's  all.  It  will  take  a  few  days  to  get  the 
business  fixed  up,  and  you  j  ust  sign  an  application  for  a 
loan  now,  and  you  and  your  wife  come  up  in  about  a  week 
and  make  out  the  mortgage,  and  I  will  have  everything  all 
straight.  I  will  try  and  get  you  eighteen  hundred  on  it. 
I  know  the  place  well,  and  can  get  the  appraisers  necessary, 
right  here  in  town.  It  is  possible  that  I  can't  get  but  six 
teen  hundred  on  it,  but  you  sign  an  application  for  eighteen^ 
and  I'll  do  the  best  I  can  for  you." 

"I  need  some  money  to-day,''  said  the  farmer,  rather 
regretfully  ;  and  did  not  know  but  what  I  might  borrow  it.' 

"  How  much  do  you  want  ?" 

u  I  ought  to  have  fifty  dollars.  I  brought  up  my  wagon^, 
and  need  to  take  some  things  back." 


l.()()KIN(,    1-okWARI).  8l 

"  Well,  said  the  lawyer  ;  "you  just  .sign  this  applica 
tion  and  I  can  get  it  for  you." 

"We  will  make  out  a  note  for  the  fifty  dollars,  on  thirty 
days,  and  I  expect  the  discount  will  be  about  two  dollars." 

"  Why,  James,  that  will  be  at  the  rate  of  four  per  cent, 
per  month,  and  I  only  want  it  for  a  week,  you  know,"  said 
Graf  ton. 

"Yes,  1  know  ;  but  that's  about  the  only  way  you'll 
get  the  money  ;  that  public  opinion  we  were  talking  about 
has  n't  had  a  great  deal  of  effect  on  the  loaning  of  money  yet.'*' 

Seeing  that  nothing  else  could  be  done,  Mr.  Grafton 
signed  the  application,  obcained  the  money  and  began  mak 
ing  his  little  purchases,  preparatory  to  leaving  for  home. 

As  the  evening  shadows  began  to  appear,  Mrs.  Grafton 
and  Charlie  began  to  look  for  the  return  of  the  absent  our. 

"  I  know  he  will  come  soon,  Charlie ;  he  told  us  he 
wouldn't  be  gone  but  one  night,"  said  Mrs.  <  rrafton. 

Charlie  was  constantly  running  out  to  the  "big  road'' 
to  look,  and  no  sooner  did  he  return  from  one  of  these 
expeditions  than  he  was  seized  with  a  desire  to  go  again. 
"  May  be  I  could  see  him  now,  if  I  were  there,"  he  woiild  say. 

Mrs.  Grafton  could  see  Charlie,  from  the  house,  as  he 
stood  at  the  roadside,  looking  anxiously  into  the  distance) 
and  at  last  he  seemed  intent  upon  something  :  she  called  to 
him  : 

''  Do  you  see  him,  Charlie  ?" 

"  Somebody  is  coming,"  said  he  ;  "I  can't  see  if  it  is. 
him." 

Mrs.  Grafton  could  resist  no  longer,  and  joined  her 
child  at  the  roadside.  A  wagon  was  approaching,  but  the 
fading  light  of  the  summer  evening  prevented  them  from 
determining  whether  it  was  the  one  they  looked  for  or  not. 

"Listen!"  said  the  mother;  "I  believe  that  is  our 
wagon  ;  I  can  tell  the  rattle  of  its  wheels." 

Reassured  by  the  sound,  Mrs.  Grafton  took  the  hand 
of  her  child,  and  together  they  approached  the  slowly^ 


82  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

moving  wagon.      Mr.  Grafton  saw  them  coming,   and  called 
out  pleasantly:   kl  Couldn't  you  wait  an y  longer?'' 

"Oh,  mamma!  it's  him,"  said  Charlie;  "let's  run;"  and 
tugging  at  his  mother's  hand,  he  actually  induced  her  to 
run  the  few  steps  which  intervened  between  them  and  the 
returning  husband  and  father. 

The  wagon  was  stopped,  and  although  it  was  but  a 
short  distance  to  the  house,  both  climbed  up  into  the  rough 
wagon  beside  the  driver. 

"  Why,  Emily,"  said  Mr.  Grafton,  as  he  placed  his  arm 
around  her,  u  I  believe  you  are  glad  to  see  me  !" 

"Oh,"  said  she,  "you  men  know  nothing  of  the  lone 
some,  weary  times  that  come  so  often  to  a  woman  on  a  farm. 
So  many  women  spend  their  lives  in  waiting,  hoping,  trust 
ing!  Work  is  their  only  relief." 

"Ah  !  yon  are  downhearted  again  ;  you  have  health  and 
the  love  of  your  family ;  j  ust  think  of  our  Mary  ;  perhaps 
she  will  be  famous  some  day, — who  knows  !  there  is  n't  such 
another  girl  in  the  world — for  us." 

The  horses  had  now  drawn  the  wagon  in  front  of  the 
little  stable,  and  come  to  a  halt.  Charlie  clambered  out  and 
called  to  his  father : 

"  Papa,  we  Ve  got  home  !" 

But  the  occupants  of  the  wagon  for  the  moment  showed 
no  disposition  to  alight. 

It  is  a  little  remarkable  that  the  tender  passion,  which 
forms  the  staple  of  most  works  of  fiction,  appears  to  the 
average  reader  as  interesting  onlv  when  it  concerns  the 
loves  of  men  and  maids.  The  supposition  that  husbands 
and  wives  may  and  do  love  each  other,  is  of  course  admiss 
ible  in  print,  but  strange  as  it  may  seem,  when  the  lover's 
tender  wooings  have  resulted  in  matrimony,  sentiment 
seems  to  have  received  a  most  fatal  wound  in  the  house  of 
its  friends,  and  the  writer  who  should  so  far  forget  himself 
and  his  readers  as  to  devote  space  to  the  love  of  husband 
and  wife,  would  most  surelv  be  considered  as  having  viola 
ted  all  the  proprieties  at  once.  And  yet,  who  for  a  moment 


LOOK rv.  FORWARD.  83 

believes  that  the  sincere  affection  of  youth,  strengthened  by 
confidence  and  trust,  which  has  not  been  misplaced,  is  in 
ferior  to  the  vaporings  of  deceptive  passion  ?  The  man  and 
woman  who  have  a  common  interest  in  a  little  grave  upon 
the  wind-swept  prairie,  have,  in  that  unutterable  sorrow,  a 
bond  far  stronger  than  all  the  whispered  nothings  ever 
uttered  by  man  or  listened  to  by  maid. 


84 


LOOKING  FORWARD. 


CHAl'TKK     X. 

QUESTIONS    AND    ANSWKRS. 

ICKKY    Tones   was    in    town 

•j  i 

and  brought  me  out  a  letter 
from  Mary,"  said  Mrs.  Graf- 
ton  ;  "you  shall  see  it  Avhen 
you  go  in.  She  says  that 
Mrs.  McFarland  has  sent  her, 
•a  few  times,  to  take  her  place 
as  teacher  of  one  of  the 
lower  classes,  among 
the  "day  scholars,"  and 
that  she  had  begun  to 
feel  as  though  she  had 
made  one  step  toward  a 
somewhat  better  posi 
tion,  when  some  of  the  parents  of  the  little  girls  complained 
to  Dr.  McFarland  that  the}'  did  not  send  their  children  to 
the' institute  to  be  taught  by  a  "hired  girl"  and  that  if  a 
change  was  not  made  they  should  take  their  daughters  from 
the  school." 

"Human  nature  has  some  awful  mean  streaks,  hasn't 
it?"  said  Mr.  Grafton.  "Now  just  think  of  our  poor  Mary 
struggling  against  the  social  slights,  which  mean  so  much 
to  a  young  girl ;  working  hard  in  the  kitchen,  that  she  may 
have  an  opportunity  to  do  something  more  to  her  taste  in 
the  future,  and  then,  when  the  door  appears  to  be  opened, 
only  a  trifle,  to  have  those  people  so  eager  to  close  it  again 
in  her  face.  It  couldn't  have  been  that  they  found  any 
fault  with  her  teaching,  for  she  was  fully  prepared  to  teach 
a  primary  class  long  ago;  and  then,  she  has  one  of  the 
sweetest  dispositions  in  the  world,  and  her  desire  to  teach 
would  have  made  her  exert  herself  to  please  her  little 
scholars.  The  only  reason  was  that  some  of  the  pupils 
knew  that  Mary  had  been  employed  in  the  kitchen.  But 
that  was  enough.  Life  is  a  fight,  even  for  a  girl.  Animals 


f 


c 


LOOKING  FORWARD.  87 

all  join  in  keeping  the  underlings  down,  and  human  na 
ture  differs  but  little  from  brute  nature.'' 

"And  so  Mary  was  relieved  of  the  responsibility  of 
teaching,  1  suppose?" 

"Yes,  Mrs.  McFarland  told  Mary  all  about  it,  and 
really  seemed  to  feel  badly  for  her:  and  she  said,  too,  that 
those  people  were  very  foolish,  for,  for  the  little  girls, 
Mary  was  a  much  better  teacher  than  she  would  have  been, 
herself;  that  Mary  had  more  patience  with  them  and  was 
better  adapted  to  teaching." 

"The  summer  vacation  is  at  hand,  and  Mary  must 
come  home  for  a  visit,  at  any  rate,"  said  Mr.  Grafton. 

'•  Why.  can  we  afford  it,  do  you  think?" 

"  No,  indeed,  we  can't  afford  anything,  but  we  must 
have  her  come,  whether  we  can  or  not.  We  have  got  to 
give  up  the  farm,  sooner  or  later,  and  I  am  for  cutting  the 
thing  short.  In  fact,  all  we  can  do  is  to  mortgage  the 
place  for  all  we  can  get,  sell  oil' stock  and  crops,  and — 

"And  what  then?"  said  Mrs.  Grafton. 

"  Qh,  I  don't  know  what,  but  that  much  is  clear,  for 
we  can't  continue;  to  raise  crops  and  sell  them  for  less  than 
H  costs  to  raise  them.  They  were  only  talking  of  pay  in  u 
ten  cents  a  bushel  for  new  oats  up  at  Branchton,  and  it 
will  cost  anybody  eighteen  to  grow  them,  if  all  the  items 
of  expense  are  counted  up." 

"All  that  may  be  true,"  said  Mrs.  <  Jrafton,  regretfully; 
"but  I  can't  bear  the  thoughts  of  giving  up  this  farm,  just 
as  the  trees  which  we  have  planted  begin  to  make  it  look 
s«>  home-like  and  so  pretty." 

"Well,  mother,  we  can't  settle  everything  by  sitting 
bore  in  the  wagon  all  night  ;  Charlie  has  almost  got  the 
horses  loose  from  the  wagon;  poor  fellows,  they  are  tired; 
they  are  not  used  to  the  road,  and  thirty  miles  have  in 
them  a  great  many  steps." 

A  few  days  later  found  the  Graftons  in  Branchton; 
Mrs.  Grafton  came  along  to  sign  the  mortgage,  and  Charlie, 
because  he  could  not  be  left.  Driving  up  to  a  boarding- 


-88  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

house,  or  second-rate  hotel,  Mrs.  Grafton  was  left,  but 
Charlie  would  go  with  his  father  to  the  stable,  that  he 
might  see  as  much  of  the  town  as  possible. 

Mr.  James  office  was  soon  reached  ;  that  gentleman 
was  in. 

"Hello,  Grafton,"  said  he;  "come  back  for  another 
lecture?" 

"  No,  I  came  on  other  business,  but  I'm  always  ready 
to  talk  to  a  man  from  whom  I  can  hope  to  gain  any 
information. <? 

"  Well,  according  to  the  best  of  my  recollection,  you 
got  me  to  talking  pretty '  lively  when  you  were  here  last; 
fact  is,  I  don't  believe  I  ever  spoke  out  quite  so  plain  be 
fore.  But  then,  what  I  said  is  all  true  enough." 

"  You  are  surprised  that  you  told  the  truth;  is  that  it?" 
said  Grafton,  laughing. 

"  Oh,  well,  it  is  n't  usual  for  men  to  say  just  what  they 
think,  you  know.'' 

"The  men  usually  say  what  they  don't  think,  eh?" 

"At  it  again,  I  see,"  said  the  lawyer.  "  But  then,  you 
know  as  well  as  any  man  that  men  generally  are  a  set  of 
damned  moral  cowards.  Plenty  of  fellows  that  will  fight 
.you  at  the  drop  of  a  hat,  that  don't  dare  vow  an  opinion 
that  has  n't  been  approved  by  public  sentiment.  They  say 
that  the  voice  of  the  people  is  the  voice  of  God.  Nonsense! 
You  can  see  that  it  hasn't  been,  through  the  most  of  the 
world's  history  It  chose  Barabas,  rather  than  Christ, 
long  ago,  and  has  kept  it  up  ever  since;  kept  on  killing  its 
Christs  and  elevating  its  Barabases.  History  is  only  a 
record  of  wars,  that  the  men  most  honored  have  always 
been  the  greatest  robbers  and  murderers.  And  that  is 
public  opinion!  That  is  what  rules  us  now,  and  that  is 
the  sort  of  stuff  we  are  told  is  the  Voice  of  God !  The  truth 
is,  public  opinion  is  made;  it's  manufactured,  and  it 
always  has  been,  and  never  was  it  more  under  the  control 
of  the  ruling  power,  than  to-day.  The  great  newspapers 
of  the  country  make  public  opinion;  you  know  that,  and 


LOOK  INT,     FORWARD.  89 

you  probably  suspect  that  they  advocate  what  they  do  for 
pecuniary  reasons,  only  you  don't  suspect  it  half  hard 
enough.  It  is  all  done  for  pay,  in  one  way  or  other.  Of 
course  there  are  slight  exceptions  to  this,  but  they  are  not 
worth  noting.  Now  that's  the  way  public  opinion  is  made; 
you  know  it — and  then  to  say  that  the  voice  of  the  major 
ity,  made  in  this  way,  is  entitled  to  respect,  is  to.,  fun  113-;" 
and  the  lawyer  laughed  with  a  hard,  metallic  sound. 

11  Say,  Grafton,"  said  he;  '' 1  don't  know  what  makes 
me  talk  so  freely  to  you.  unless  it's  because  I  know,  or 
think  J  do,  your  opinions  and  feel  like  shocking  you. 
Some  influence  appears  to  make  me  talk,  anyhow." 

"You  say  the  public  opinion  is  controlled  by  the 
,ruling  power'/'  said  Grafton;  ''and  when  I  was  here  before 
you  told  me,  if  I  remember  right,  that  the  churches  formed 
the  main  support  of  the  present  order  of  things.'' 

"Oh,  well,  you  see  there  is  a  power  behind  that  throne 
greater  than  the  throne  itself.  Mammon  is  the  god  that 
is  really  worshipped.  Not  by  all;  some  of  the  old-maid 
members  of  the  church  are  pure  gold;  they  live  right  up 
to  preaching,  but  the  most  of  'em  keep  the  Jesus  that  they 
really  worship  right  down  in  their  breeches  pocket,  or  they 
wish  that  they  had  him  there." 

"  Look  here,  James,"  said  the  farmer,  warmly,  ''you 
are  a  little  too  fast  and  too  bitter.  You  are  allowing  your 
feelings  against  some  deacon  or  other,  to  run  awav  with 
your  judgment  and  your  memory.  Now  1  am  pretty  con 
fident  that  when  we  had  our  talk  the  other  day  that  vou 
admitted  that  there  was  a  remedy  for  present  economic 
troubles,  in  public  opinion,  and  that  public  opinion  is 
changing  for  the  better;  now  you  berate  public  opinion 
tell  how  it  is  made  and  say  that  it  is  n't  worth  minding." 

"  I  suppose  you  think  you  have  me  on  the  hip  now.'' 
said  the  lawyer,  mockingly;  "but  it's  the  honest  fact  that 
both  views  are  right  and  both  are  entirely  reconcilable. 
In  the  laws  of  nature  we  see  force  everywhere  triumphant; 
there  is  no  pity,  no  morality.  The  survival  of  the  fittest 


90  LOOKING  FORWARD. 

is  the  rule.  Cunning  and  strength  succeed  in  the  natural 
world  and  in  all  the  operations  of  nature,  now,  as  they 
always  have.  The  pig  that  steals  the  most  swill  hecomes 
the  best  hog  and  the  progenitor  of  the  future  herd.  The 
plant  that  crowds  other  plants  out  of  existence,  occupies 
the  ground.  Morally,  all  this  appears  to  be  wrong  and 
reprehensible  to  the  last  degree,  but  it  is  the  way  of  the 
world.  Still,  running  through  all  the  course  of  nature, 
we  can  see  that  there  has  been  an  enormous  advance. 
The  remains  of  prehistoric  plants  and  animals,  when  com 
pared  with  those  which  exist  to-day,  are  only  remarkable 
for  their  si/e  and  hideousness.  We  see  that,  through  the 
untold  myriads  of  years  which  have  elapsed,  that,  although 
selfishness  and  disregard  of  the  rights  of  other  organiza 
tions  have  prevailed,  to  the  utter  exclusion  of  what  we 
regard  as  justice,  still,  some  principle  which  is  above  and 
beyond  our  grasp,  has  secured  an  advance.  There  has  been 
a  steady  upward  movement.  The  world  in  which  we  live 
has  improved,  and  is  improving.  True,  great  periods  of 
time  are  necessary  in  order  to  note  great  advances,  but 
they  have  been  made.  The  means  used — complete  selfish 
ness  on  the  part  of  all  organizations  engaged  in  the  strug 
gle,  and  utter  disregard  of  the  question  of  right,  judged  by 
the  moral  standard — can  only  excite  our  aversion  and 
contempt,  and  yet  we  see  that,  through  it  all,  there  has 
been  in  operation  a  power  which  has  controlled  every 
thing — and  for  good.  There  is  something  which  man 
has  n't  been  able  to  measure,  or  weigh,  or  understand,  and 
that  something  includes  a  design  which  is  being  advanced, 
and  yet  that  advance  is  being  secured  by  the  use  of  what 
must  seem  to  us  the  most  horrible  and  cruel  means!" 

"Well,  now  it  is  just  so  in  mental  advancement;  in 
the  life  of  men.  The  most  horrible  things  take  place; 
things  which  we  cry  out  against,  which  we  ought  to  cry 
out  against,  and  yet  we  see  that  these  very  things  which 
excite  our  horror  or  our  disgust,  finally  are  controlled  for 
the  advancement  of  the  race.'' 


LOOK  INC,     i-OR  \V.\RP.  91 

"The  Jews  crucified  Christ:  without  th is  there  could 
have  been  no  Christian  religion.  It  was  necessary.  Public 
opinion  sanctioned  it.  Public  opinion  brought  it  about; 
and  this  very  public  opinion  was  wrong  then,  as  for  the 
most  part  it  always  has  been  wrong,  and  yet  it  was  a  nec 
essary  agent  in  the  transaction,  although  it  was  on  the 
wrong  side.  The  power  of  public  opinion  induces  change, 
mostly  from  wrong  motives,  and  should  be  withstood  bv 
the  conscientious,  and  yet  we  cannot  shut  our  eyes  to  the 
fact  that  there  is  a  power  which  we  cannot  control,  which 
is  above  and  beyond  the  power  of  man  to  control,  and  this 
power  is  pushing  the  race  onward  and  upward  through  the 
course  of  life." 

"There!  I  haven't  been  talking  but  a  few  minutes, 
only" — taking  out  his  watch — "a  few  minutes,  and  yet  1 
have  given  you  a  pretty  good  dose.  1  suppose  you've  come 
up  on  that  mortgage  business?" 

"Say.  Graf  ton,  you  are  a  good  listener!" 

"  I  am  always  interested  to  hear  a  man  talk,  when  he 
is  saying  what  he  really  believes.  Yes,  1  came  on  the 
mortgage  bus  hi 

"  Well,  I  couldn't  get  you  but  sixteen  hundred  on 
your  place." 

"  Well,  I  left  that  matter  in  your  hands,  entirely. 
Really,  I  couldn't  do  otherwise." 

"All  right;  1  suppose  your  wife  is  here.  I  see  you 
have  the  baby  with  you.  Well,  you  bring  her  around;  we 
will  fix  up  the  papers." 

Grafton  soon  returned  with  his  wife,  she  was  intro 
duced  to  the  lawyer,  signed  her  name  mechanically  and, 
with  Charlie,  returned  to  the  hotel. 

"That  makes  it  all  snug,  (Jrafton;  I  sha'n't charge  you 
anything  for  the  appraisers,  although  it's  usual  to  do  so. 
I  know  they  didn't  have  to  go  out  to  the  farm,  but  it's 
usual  to  charge,  all  the  same.  Now  let's  see — beginning  to 
figure  on  the  table — there  is  the  face  of  the  note,  that's 
$1,600.  Then  out  of  that  will  come  the  old  mortgage  of 


92  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

$1,000,  then  there  was  $100  interest  long  past  due,  I'll 
have  to  charge  you  two  per  cent,  per  month  on  that; 
money  is  worth  that  now;  it  was  due  four  months  ago, 
making  $8.  Then  I'll  have  to  charge  you  $25  for  releasing 
the  old  mortgage.  Then  the  interest  for  one  year  in  ad 
vance,  that  at  nine  per  cent,  will  be  $144.  Fixing  up  the 
abstract  of  title  will  be  $5  more.  Then  the  note  for  $50 
will  make  a  total  of  $1,332.  Take  that  from  $1,600  and 
we  have  $268.  Run  my  figures  over,  Graf  ton,  and  see  if  I 
am  right.'' 

"  I  have/'  said  he;  "if  all  the  items  have  to  go  in,  the 
figuring  is  correct." 

"All  the  items  go  in?  Of  course  they  do!  I  didn't 
charge  you  for  appraising,  and  that's  usually  quite  an 
item." 

"The  item  of  $25  for  the  release  of  the  old  mortgage 
is  all  right,  is  it?" 

"Of  course!" 

"  Who  gets  that?" 

"  Why  I  arn  the  agent  of  the  company,  you  know!" 

"  That's  the  usual  charge,  Grafton ;  I  have  done  this 
business  on  the  square  and  made  no  unusual  charge." 

"  I  expect  that's  true,"  said  the  farmer;  "anybody  in 
your  line  would  have  done  the  same.  Make  out  your  check 
for  the  money  and  we  will  close  up  the  trade." 

Taking  his  check,  Grafton  walked  out  of  the  office  and 
down  the  street  where  the  farmers'  wagons  bringing  wheat 
usually  stood  waiting  for  a  buyer;  curiosity  induced  him 
to  examine  the  quality  of  the  wheat  and  hear  the  price 
offered  by  the  buyers.  Among  the  sellers  was  an  old 
German  farmer,  who  could  speak  but  little  English;  his 
wheat  had  among  it  traces  of  a  worm  which  sometimes 
fastens  itself  upon  wheat  in  the  open  bins  of  the  country, 
where  it  has  become  wet.  It  is  not  of  much  damage  to 
wheat,  as  it  can  only  attack  that  which  has  been  softened. 
A  few  grains  in  the  German's  load  only  h~d  been  affected, 
and  yet  the  buyer  was  expatiating  loudly  on  the  damage 


LOOKING    l-OKWARD. 


93 


this  particular  load  would  do  if  placed  in  the  elevator  with 
other  wheat.  He  wouldn't  have  it  in  his  elevator  for  $100. 
He  had  a  feed-mill,  however,  in  connection  with  his  other 
husiness,  and  could  grind  the  stuff'  for  feed,  and  would 
give  twenty-five  cents  a  bushel  for  it, — the  price  of  uood 
wheat  being  sixty  cents. 

The  old  German  seemed  da/ed  and  hardly  kne\v  what 
to  do.  As  the  buyer  stepped  away  for  a  moment  a  friend 
came  up  and  said:  "Two  blocks  away  there  is  a  man  who 
has  a  fanning  mill;  drive  your  wheat  down  then;;  put  it 
through  the  fanning-mill;  you  can  have  my  wagon  to  u-e 
long  enough  for  that;  get  a  friend  to  drive  it  up  here  and 
he  can  sell  your  wheat  for  sixty  cents." 


The  German  nodded  and  drove  away. 

A-  Graf  ton  was  leaving  town  some  time  after,  he  went 
through  the  same  street  and  happened  along  just  as  the 
old  German,  having  made  the  exchange  of  wagons  and 
sold  his  wheat,  was  now  on  his  way  home. 


"Who  bought  your  wheat?"  said  the   buyer  to  the  old 


man 


94  BOOKING    FORWARD. 

"You  did  I"  said  he,  in  broken  English, ;  "we  put  it  in 
another  wagon  and  cleaned  it  up  and  you  gave  sixty  cents 
for  it." 

The  man  was  furious  with  rage.  To  "beat  a  granger'' 
was  great  fun,  but  to  have  the  "granger"'  succeed  in  getting 
an  advantage  over  him  was  so  great  a  departure  from  the 
usual  way  that  he  scarcely  knew  what  to  say. 

As  usual,  however,  when  nothing  else  can  be  thought 
of,  oaths  come  handy  to  the  average  man,  and  these  poured 
forth.  The  old  German  smiled  peacefully,  and  whipping  up 
his  horse,  was  soon  out  of  sight. 

The  Graftons  had  an  acquaintance  who  lived  a  few 
miles  out  of  Branchton,  011  the  road  to  Plainville,  and  as  it 
was  now  quite  late  in  the  afternoon  they  resolved  to  make 
him  a  short  visit  and  stay  over  night,  going  home  in  the 
morning. 

"  Uncle''  Jabez  Smith  was  a  man  of  marked  force  of 
character,  who,  although  of  genial  manner  and  happy  dis 
position,  still  contrived  to  make  whoever  spent  any  time  in 
his  company  feel  that  he  "had  views"  which  he  considered 
important.  The  families  had  been  acquainted  in  Ohio,  so 
when  the  Graftons  drove  up  to  the  Smith  homestead,  the}' 
were  warmly  welcomed.  "  Uncle"  Jabez  and  "Aunt"  Sarah 
both  came  out  at  once,  and  the  old  man,  the  better  to  show 
his  friendship  and  the  warmth  of  his  welcome,  began  at 
once  to  unhitch  the  Grafton  horses  from  the  wagon. 

"Get  out,  George  !"  said  lie;  "hain't  seen  }-e  for  a  long 
time.  We  can  talk  everything  all  over  and  back  agi'n." 

Mrs.  Grafton  and  Charlie  soon  followed  Aunt  Sarah 
into  the  house,  while  the  "men  folks"  looked  at  stock  and 
talked  of  crops  and  prospects  iintil  it  was  too  dark  to  see, 
when  an  adjournment  was  had  to  the  house. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  the  Farmers'  Alliance  that  is 
taking  such  a  hold,  Uncle  Jabez  ?"  said  Grafton. 

u  Why  it  ought  to  be  a  good  thing,  George,  it  ought  to 
be;  the  principles  is  all  right,  <r/they  would  live  up  to  'em. 
But  there  it  is;  mebbe  they  will;  and  mebbe  they  won't. 


I.OOKINV,     FORWARD.  95 

To  judge  by  what's  past,  the  prospect  ain't  any  too  encour 
aging.  Smart  and  design! n'  men  will  set  the  whole  caboodle 
to  quarrelin'  about  some  fool  thing  or  other  that  reely  is  of 
no  importance  at  all.  Likes  as  not  the}-  will  all  be  a  want- 
in'  to  cut  each  other's  throats  about  the  blame  .southern  nig 
gers  a  votin'  when  their  own  votes  is  contracted  for,  months 
before  election  and  the  goods  delivered  regular.  And  the 
fools  don't  know  enough  to  know  they  are  voted  bv  the 
wire-pullers.  Whyr  their  own  votes  is  always  used  against 
their  interests  right  along,  and  then  for  'em  to  be  afraid  the 
niggers  votes  ain't  counted,  is  just  too  funny.  And  there 
ain't  one  of  'em  that  dares  to  vote  counter  to  what  the  law 
yers  of  his  party  tells  him  is  the  straight  tiling,  and  I  don't 
believe  there  is  a  single  one  of  them  jack-leg  lawyers  up  to 
town  that  can't  go  into  an  Alliance  meetin'  or  convention 
and  set  'em  to  fightin'  one  another  like  all  rip  in  one  hour's 
time.  Now  if  it  can  be  done,  it  stands  to  reason  it  will  be. 
manners  has  got  a  heap  to  learn,  before  they  get  down  to 
business.  Then,  see  how  jealous  they  be!  Why,  if  a  farmer 
trets  a  nomernatioii  for  some  office,  his  own  neighbors  will 
say  he  is  stuck  up  and  like's  not,  not  vote  for  him.  Tlu-y 
would  rather  vote  for  some  lawyer  or  professional  man  that 
can  put  on  style." 

"  I  know,"  said  Grafton,  "that  has  been  the  way,  but 
don't  you  think  they  will  learn  after  a  while  to  stand  by 
one  another  and  let  the  political  tricksters  alone  ?  It  is 
only  a  short  time  since  the  Grange  was  first  organized  and 
farmers  began  to  think  of  working  together.  Of  course, 
they  would  be  expected  to  make  mistakes  and  failures  at 
first.  Now,  you  know  how  it  is  with  a  young  colt  when  it 
first  tries  to  stand.  How  many  times  it  will  throw  itself 
-down  before  it  finally  makes  a  success  of  it !  If  you  saw 
this  for  the  first  time,  and  without  previous  instruction,  you 
would  say:  'that  thing  can  never  stand  on  those  pipe-stem 
legs;'  and  yet  it  does,  because  there  is  a  natural  force  be 
hind  it.  Now  don't  you  think  the  necessities  of  the  farmer 
•will  finally  induce  him  to  stand,  too  ?" 


96  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

uWell,    I   dun    know,"    said   Uncle  Jabez,  doubtfully 
"colts  mostly  does  stand  up  after  tryin'  a  while,  but  farmers 
and  laborers  never  has  yet." 

"  But  in  the  first  settlement  of  our  country,  our  people 
were  all  farmers,  and  they  humbled  the  power  of  even  Great 
Britian  and  secured  their  independence.'' 

"Oh  shucks,"  said  Uncle  Jabez,  "what'd  the  farmers  a 
done  without  Patrick  Henry,  the  Adamses,  Jefferson,  Dr. 
Franklin,  Hamilton,  Morris,  Paine,  and  the  rest  of  the  law 
yers,  and  doctors,  and  preachers  that  furnished  the  brain 
power  of  the  whole  thing  ?  Why,  they  never  would  have 
made  a  declaration,  let  alone  gaining  their  independence!" 

"  Well,  but  Uncle  Jabez,  don't  you  know  there  has  been 
a  great  advance  in  general  education,''  said  Grafton,  un 
willing  to  be  thus  summarily  put  dowrn,  "and  the  farmer  of 
to-day  is  away  ahead  of  the  farmer  of  a  hundred  years  ago!'' 

"Well,  now  don't  you  fool  yourself  on  that;  the  ad 
vance  has  not  been  with  the  farmer, — in  fact  the  farmer  has 
almost  stood  still,  and  the  other  classes  has  all  the  fruits  of 
victory  in  their  hands.  It  will  be  a  heap  easier  for  the  big- 
bugs  to  manage  the  crowd  now,  than  it  was  before.  Them 
Revolutionary  farmers  would  a  been  tolerable  hard  to 
manage ;  they  had  spunk  and  stamina  and  would  a  held  out 
for  an  idee.  Now-a-days,  what  with  the  big  newspapers  and 
all  the  lawyers  and  means  of  information  in  the  hands  of 
the  farmers'  opposers,  it'll  be  just  as  easy  to  manage  them 
as  can  be.  Why,  what  every  man  lives  on  is  his  thoughts,. 
and  when  he  isn't  man  enough  to  have  thoughts  he  has 
prejudices,  and  that's  more  powerful  still,  and  what  with  the 
rotten  politics  of  our  time  and  the  Grand  Army  sentiment, 
and  hate  of  the  other  crowd,  all  completely  in  the  hands  of 
the  men  that  intend  to  keep  the  farmer  in  his  place,  or 
worse,  why  he  just  ain't  got  no  show;  he'll  stop  where  he 
is  until  the  powers  that  be  want  him  to  rise,  and  I  hain't 
seen  no  sign  of  it  yet,  have  you?" 

"I  can't  help  but  think,"  said  Grafton,  "that  you  fail 
to  give  the  rising  spirit  of  independent  thought  enough 


LOOKIXC,     FORWARD.  97 

prominence.      I  know  there  is  a  change  in  the  air." 

"  Independent  thought !"  snorted  Uticle  Jabez,  "whose 
got  the  independent  thought  ?  Not  the  farmers !  They 
don't  dare  say  what  they  think  ;  fact  is,  the  most  of  'em 
don't  think,  they  just  suck  whatever  some  shiny  coat  sees 
fit  to  give  'em.  Why,  if  an  average  farmer  happened  to  go 
up  to  the  county  scat  with  an  independent  thought  in  his 
head,  a  couple  of  them  court-house  hangers-on  would  make 
him  so  ashamed  of  it  in  five  minutes'  talk,  that  he'd  go 
home,  and  the  next  day  be  usin'  the  same  arguments  on  his 
neighbors,  that  the  court-house  fellers  gave  him.  But  say 
it's  time  to  go  to  bed,  and  we  can't  stay  up  all  night  a 
talkinV 

"I  expect  you  miss  your  daughter,  don't  ye?"  said 
Uncle  Jabe/  to  Mrs.  Grafton. 

lv  Yes,  indeed  !  I  little  thought  I  should  miss  her  as 
much  as  I  have.  Mary  is  a  good  girl,  and  wonderfully 
thoughtful  for  one  of  her  age.  She  was  really  more  of  a 
companion  to  me  than  a  daughter.  But  she  is  coming  home 
now  in  a  few  days  for  a  visit,  at  any  rate." 

"  I  know  you  will  enjoy  that,"  said  Aunt  Sarah.  UA 
mother's  relation  to  a  daughter  is  wonderfully  close.  A 
father  seldom  sympathizes  fully  with  his  son,  but  most 
mothers  do  with  their  daughters." 

It  was  now  quite  late,  and  as  the  desire  to  converse 
began  to  wane,  the  Grafton s  were  shown  to  their  room,  and 
sleep  soon  possessed  the  household. 

Before  the  sun  rose  the  following  morning,  the  good 
people  were  astir.  Mrs.  Grafton  was  assisting  Aunt  Sarah 
in  the  preparation  of  the  morning  meal,  and  Uncle  Jabcz 
had  made  Mr.  Grafton  take  an  excursion  to  the  "near  field" 
to  see  a  wonderful  crop  of  corn  that  he  was  raising,  after  a 
new  method. 

Breakfast  over,  the  friends  separated  with  mutual 
ejaculations  of  "come  over  often,  now!''  and  (\von  come  over!'* 
and  "see't  you  do,  now  !" 


98 


LOOKING    FORWARD. 


As  the  Graftons  drove  slowly  along,  they  began  to  talk 
of  their  situation.  They  must  now  leave  the  farm.  There 
"was  no  longer  any  hope  of  retaining  it.  Mrs.  Grafton  was 
depressed  at  the  thought,  but  strange  as  it  may  seem,  Mr. 
Grafton  felt  relieved.  He  surely  could  earn  a  living,  and 
the  farm  had  been  such  a  struggle  to  hold,  and  the  living  it 
had  afforded  him  lacked  all  the  advantages  which  he  told 
himself  his  family  ought  to  enjoy.  Surely,  they  would  not 
in  future  fare  worse  than  they  had  in  past! 

About  noon,  they  began  to  approach  their  home.  As 
they  came  in  sight  of  neighbor  Jones'  house,  which  they 
would  pass  on  their  way,  some  one  came  down  the  path  to 
the  road,  as  though  she  would  speak  with  them. 

"  Whv,  that  can't  be  Mrs.   Tones!"    said  Airs.  Grafton. 

J   I  »/ 

"  I  wonder  who  it  is  ?" 

"  Maybe,"  said  her  husband,  "it's  the  school  miss.'' 

Charlie  had  been  asleep  in  the  bottom  of  the  wagon  for 
some  time,  but  as  they  began  to  near  home  he  had  awakened, 
and  now  at  the  thought  of  seeing  some  one  he  knew,  he  had 
roused  himself  and  was  looking  eagerly  at  the  approaching 
figure.  As  she  came  nearer  the  sunbonnet  was  thrown 
parti}'  back  from  the  face,  and  at  the  same  instant  Charlie 
screamed  excitedly : 

"  It's  my  sister  !  it's  my  sister  !" 

"It  is  Mary!''  said  both  the  parents  at  once.  The 
ready  tears  came  at  once  to  Mrs.  Grafton's  eyes ;  for  the 
moment  she  was  completely  overcome.  Charlie  had  clam 
bered  out  of  the  wagon,  his  sister  held  him  in  her  arms  and 
covered  his  face  with  kisses  ;  her  face  was  wreathed  with 
smiles,  she  laughed  excitedly,  and  all  the  time  the  tears 
were  freely  flowing  down  her  cheeks. 

Mr.  Grafton,  alone,  retained  any  semblance  of  self- 
possessioii. 

"  Why,  Mary  !''  said  he  ;  "how  came  you  here?" 


KINV,    FORWARD.  101 

CHAPTER     XI. 

MARY    AT    HOMK. 

A  CATION  was  announced  one  week 
sooner  than  we  had  been  expecting," 
said  Mary,  "and  I  wanted  to  give  you 
a  surprise,  so  I  came  at  once.  I  had 
carefully  saved  the  money  you  left 
me,  mother,  to  pay  my  fare.  I  came 
to  Plainville  yesterday.  Neighbor 
Jones  was  in  town  and  I  came  with 
him.  Oh,  dear!  I  am  so  glad  to  see 
you,  and  you  look  so  natural  and  so 
good !" 

And  how  Charlie  has  grown  !  My! 
but  you  will  be  a  big  boy  soon,  and 
then  you  won't  love  me  as  you  do 
now." 

Charlie  was  very  certain  that  such  a  result  of  growth 
was  not  to  be  thought  of;  while  Mary  climbed  into  the  farm 
wagon  and  was  most  affectionately  welcomed  by  both  father 
and  mother,  and  as  they  slowly  proceeded  on  the  homeward 
way,  questions  were  asked  and  answered  without  number, 
and  mutual  expressions  of  joy  at  meeting  were,  again  and 
again,  exchanged. 

The  parents  looked  with  wonder  and  admiration  upon 
their  daughter.  To  them  she  seemed  like  a  dream.  Was 
this  the  child  that  but  the  other  day  had  been  delivered  into 
their  keeping,  whose  very  beginning  had  been  with  them, 
whose  childish  prattle  still  lingered  in  their  ears  ?  Could 
it  be  ?  Were  the}'  not  dreaming?  Their  child,  so  well- 
remembered,  was  a  chubby  little  flaxen-haired  midget,  with 
childish  ways.  This  was  a  woman,  whose  abundant  brown 
hair  and  soulful  ha/el  eyes  were  accompanied  by  that  inde 
finable  something  which  gave  evidence  of  a  mind  of  high 
resolve  within. 


IO2 


LOOKING    FORWARD. 


Yes,  Mary  had  come,  their  daughter  was  with  them 
now,  but  for  the  first  time  there  came  over  them  a  realiz 
ation  of  the  truth  of  the  fatherhood  of  God  :  that  each  soul 
bears  first  relation  to  the  great  First  Cause,  that  all  alike 
are  afloat  upon  an  unknown  sea  and  that  existence,  fate, 
destiny  and  the  experiences  of  life,  which  make  or  mar  our 
futures,  come  to  each  soul  in  silence  and  alone.  Form  what 
relationship  \ve  may,  the  /within  us  must  walk  alone ! 

They  were  soon  at  home.  Mrs.  Grafton  busied  herself 
with  the  preparations  for  the  noonday  meal.  Pleasure 
beamed  in  her  every  look  and  motion.  They  were  again 
united  ;  this  was  their  first  reunion ;  how  happy  they  were  ! 
how  Mary  had  improved  !  ah,  well !  she  was  now  eighteen  ; 
it  was  to  be  expected  that  she  would  have  changed  some 
what  ;  but  she  had  not  expected  quite  so  great  a  transform 
ation  in  so  short  a  time.  And  that  glorious  creature  was 
his  daughter  !  Why,  how  strange  it  seemed.  How  happy 
she  was !  Ah !  the  good  God  had  been  kind  to  her !  she 
thought. 


Mary  and  Charlie,  hand  in  hand,  ran  from  place  to 
place  to  look  at  all  the  well-remembered  pets.  Would  old 
Shep  know  her  ?  Indeed,  he  did !  How  the  trees  had 
grown,  and  even  the  garden  must  be  visited  and  the  chick 
ens  called  and  fed.  Seated  about  the  table  once  more,  they 
could  scarcely  eat.  Thoughts  too  sacred  for  utterance  filled 
their  minds,  and  but  for  Charlie's  prattle,  conversation 


LOOK  I  NT,     FORWARD.  103 

would  have  been  stilled  for  very  excess  of  joy.  The  first 
questions  had  been  asked  and  answered  ;  the  deeper 
thoughts  were  struggling  within. 

Dinner  over,  Mr.  Grafton  sat  a  while,  but  he  could  not 
talk  freely  as  he  had  been  wont  to  do.  His  eyes  followed 
his  wife  and  daughter  as  they  performed  the  ever-recurring 
tasks  of  the  household,  and  his  mind  reverted  to  the  story 
of  the  ancient,  condemned  to  spend  his  time  in  constantly 
rolling  up  the  hill  a  stone,  which  as  constantly  rolled  down 
again.  Women  did  have  a  hard  time  of  it !  Of  that  he  was 
convinced.  How  faithful  and  unselfish  most  of  them  were  ! 
If  beloved  and  happy  in  their  homes,  they  always  were! 
Were  they  not  ?  Could  he  think  of  any  who  were  not  ? 
And  before  him  passed  in  review,  one  from  another,  the 
various  households  of  his  acquaintance.  He  could  recall  no 
exception  to  the  rule.  This  was  not  true  of  men.  No! 
Men  were  not  thus  controlled  ;  with  them  the  home,  with  its 
joys  and  sorrows,  was  but  an  incident  of  life.  To  the  true 
womanly  woman,  it  was  life  itself. 

Rousing  himself  from  his  reverie,  he  went  out,  aim 
lessly  at  first ;  the  day  was  a  broken  one  and  now  far  spent, 
but  not  many  steps  had  been  taken  before  work  was  pre 
sented  which  needed  to  be  done,  and  this  led  to  more. 
Shortly  he  found  himself  busily  employed  and  interested  in 
the  completion  of  what  had  long  been  neglected.  But  the 
ever  busy  mind  would  not  be  still.  The  work  of  the  farm  : 
was  not  that,  too,  a  rolling  up  the  hill  of  a  stone  which  by 
all  the  forces  of  nature  was  forced  again  to  the  bottom  ? 
No !  the  scene  was  changed,  the  hills  were  not  the  same, 
the  landscape  varied  from  hour  to  hour ;  the  summer's  sun 
and  the  winter's  cold,  the  bursting  bud  and  the  falling  leaf, 
secured  an  indefinite  variety.  The  kaleidescope  might  be 
old  and  worn,  but  the  views  were  never  quite  the  same. 

The  four  walls  of  a  kitchen — ah  !  there  was  little  color 
ing  there  !  The  same  stew-pan  and  coffee-pot  constantly  in 
view,  until,  perchance,  worn  and  defaced,  they  succumb  to 


104  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

the  inevitable !  And  then — well,  others  were  brought  to 
share  the  same  fate. 

Ah  !  women  did  need  to  be  loved  and  cherished !  That 
was  the  contract !  This  was  the  promise  on  the  part  of  her 
master !  Master  ?  Yes,  man  was  the  master,  and  the  life 
of  the  wife  was  at  his  mercy. 

Should  this  be  so  ?     Was  it  just  ? 

He  could  not  tell.  Women  were  not  happy,  though, 
who  looked  down  upon  their  husbands.  Indeed,  did  they 
aot  desire  to  look  up  to  them  ?  Was  ever  woman  truly 
mated  who  did  not  fully  esteem  and  reverence  her  mate  ? 
To  despise  him,  was  to  inflict  untold  horrors  upon  the  future 
of  the  soul  confided  to  her  care.  That  was  sure. 

The  loved  wife  and  mother  was  the  happiest  individual 
•of  the  whole  human  race.  Yes,  that  was  true  ;  she  found 
liberty  in  love  and  happiness  in  duty,  and  yet,  for  it  all  she 
was  dependent  upon  another.  This  had  been  the  unvarying 
history  of  the  race.  Happy  marriage  had  but  few  condi 
tions,  but  those  conditions  must  most  inflexibly  be  met. 

The  unmarried  were  not  to  be  considered  ;  unmarried 
men  and  women  were  alike  in  their  social  and  natural  rights. 
All  this  was  quite  apart  from  the  question  of  marriage,  the 
creation  of  homes  and  the  uplifting  of  the  race.  Every 
-child  possessed  the  right  to  be  well-born.  If  not  well-born 
it  was  defrauded. 

Whatever  defrauded  the  future  child  of  its  birth-right 
was  most  inexpressibly  wicked,  and  would  most  surely  be 
revenged  !  Could  anything  worse  be  conceived  ? 

And  what  of  Mary's  future  ?  She  was  now  a  woman  ; 
so  far  the  direction  of  her  life  had  been  in  the  hands  of  her 
parents.  She  would  yet  be  guided  by  them.  What  should 
they  do  ? 

Poverty  never  seemed  so  crushing  in  its  weight  before. 
The  prayer  of  Agur  came  up  before  him.  Give  me  not 
poverty,  "lest  I  be  poor  and  steal,  and  take  the  name  of  my 
God  in  vain  !" 


IXX>KIN<,    FORWARD.  105 

Yes,  one  felt  like  questioning  the  fortune  that  denied 
him  the  right  to  "provide  things  needful"  for  his  family. 
And  now  was  the  time  ;  Mary's  destiny  would  soon  be  fixed 
for  life — and  those-  who  might  come  after  her?  Ah!  how 
far-reaching  the  responsibility  of  life!  Did  the  dear  (*<>.'. 
load  man  with  such  a  responsibility  and  then  deny  him 
power  to  act  in  accordance  with  the  dictates  of  his  reason 
and  his  judgment  ?  Was  there  a  God  ?  And  where  did  he 
dwell  ?  And  what  were  the  evidences  of  his  existence  ? 
Did  not  all  the  operations  of  nature  proceed  without  regard 
to  man,  and  was  he  not  the  mere  sport  of  circumstance,  a 
leaf  from  the  tree  of  lite,  afloat  upon  the  ocean  of  existence 
for  a  brief  moment,  soon  to  sink  into  the  depths  of  unknown 
and  unknowable  nothingness — that  bourne  from  whence  no 
traveler  returns  ? 

How  soon  does  the  wisest  reach  the  limit  of  his  knowl 
edge  !  Faith  and  Hope  buoy  him  up,  but  what  are  faith 
and  hope  which  do  not  rest  upon  knowledge  ? 

Grafton  had  been  busy  with  his  thoughts,  as  he  worked 
in  the  garden,  and  had  not  noticed  the  approaching  foot 
steps  of  his  daughter,  who  now  stood  beside  him. 

"Father!1'  said  she,  "why  do  you  stay  out  here-  J" 

"  Why,  daughter,  don't  you  know  that  'men  must  work 
and  women  must  weep'  ?" 

u  (  )h,  yes  ;  but  not  always  ;  life  is  n't  all  working  and 
weeping.  We  Ye  been  having  a  happy  time  in  the  house. 
Charlie  and  I  have  been  playing  pranks,  and  mother 
laughed  like  a  girl  at  our  folly,  and  we  want  you  to  come  in." 

"  It  is  nearly  time  now,"  said  he,  "to  do  the  evening 
chores  ;  it  will  soon  be  night." 

11  Well,  we  will  all  help,  won't  we,  Charlie  ?" 

Looking  up  from  his  task,  Mr.  Grafton  saw  that  his 
wife  and  little  son  were  near  at  hand,  coming  from  the  house. 

"  We  could  n't  let  Mary  get  away  from  us,"  said  the 
mother,  with  an  evident  attempt  at  gaiety  ;  "she  has  been 
bringing  back  the  old  times  in  the  house,  and  the  children 
have  had  such  a  romp !" 


106  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

"  Yes,  and  mother  played,  too,"  said  Charlie. 

"  Becoming  young  again,  are  you,  Emily  ?" 

"  Well,  George,"  said  she,  "we  never  had  an  eighteen- 
year-old  daughter  come  home  to  visit  us,  before.  And  do 
you  know,  I'm  almost  afraid  of  her,  she  makes  me  think  so 
much  of  your  sister,  Ellen,  as  she  was  at  Mary's  age.  Two 
or  three  times  I  have  called  her  Ellen,  and  I'm  afraid  I  Ve 
lost  the  little  Mary  that  used  to  cling  to  my  apron." 

"Ah,  mother  !"  said  Mary,  putting  her  arm  about  her 
mother's  waist,  "you  haven't  lost  your  daughter's  love. 
Come  father,  throw  down  that  old  hoe  and  let  us  go  and 
feed  the  stock  and  see  the  pigs  eat  their  corn,  as  we  used 
to  do!" 

Willing  hands  made  light  the  evening  work,  and  when 
done,  all  gathered  upon  the  porch  and  in  the  fading  light> 
discussed  the  family  hopes  and  fears. 

Mrs.  McFarland  had  intimated  to  Mary  that  some 
changes  would  be  made  in  the  arrangement  of  classes  at  the 
Institute,  during  the  vacation,  and  that  she  might  be  en 
abled  to  offer  a  position  as  teacher  of  some  of  the  under 
classes  for  the  ensuing  year.  This  would  release  her  from 
work  in  the  kitchen  and  allow  her  to  continue  her  studies 
in  some  of  the  higher  branches.  The  lady  was  disposed  to 
be  very  "thrift}'"  in  the  arrangement,  however,  and  had  not 
hesitated  to  convey  the  impression  to  Mary  that  she  ought 
to  thank  her  stars  for  the  opportunity  of  becoming  a  teacher> 
and  that  she  must  not  think  of  receiving  pay  for  her  services. 

"  If  this  is  done,"  said  Mary,  "and  I  am  engaged^ 
Madame  Emory,  who  has  been  receiving  $40  per  month, 
will  be  discharged,  and  I  am  so  sorry  for  her,  as  she  needs 
the  position  and  the  pay." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Mr.  Grafton,  "if  she  is  discharged  she 
can  obtain  another  situation,  for  it  seems  to  me  you  ought 
to  continue  at  the  Institute." 

"But  how  can  I  get  clothing  to  wear?"  said  Mary. 
"  I  Ve  worn  threadbare  my  little  stock,  and  I  could  not  have 
gotten  through  the  last  year  if  Mrs.  McFarland  had  not 


LOOKING   FORWARD. 

given  me  a  nice  dress  of  hers   that,   was  spoiled  for  her  in 
the  making." 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  Mr.  Graf  ton,  "that  there  is  an 
opportunity  for  you  at  the  Institute  that  you  must  avail 
yourself  of,  and  as  opportunities  come  so  seldom,  that  you 
must  write  and  toll  Mrs.  McFarland  that  you  accept;  as 
for  the  clothing,  we  will  sell  the  last  cow,  if  need  be,  to  get 
it.  At  present,  this  will  not  be  necessary." 

Mrs.  Grafton  joined  in  the  opinion  that  this  was  the 
course  that  met  her  approval,  although  she  dreaded  to 
allow  Mary  again  to  leave  her. 

"But  what  will  you  do?  Must  you  leave  the  farm?" 
said  Mary,  mournfully. 

"  Yes. "  said  Mr.  Grafton,  with  determination,  "we 
shall  be  obliged  soon  to  give  it  up,  and  I  think  that  we 
will  not  remain  longer  upon  it  than  next  spring.  I  can, 
by  closing  out  what  we  have  here,  get  enough  to  start  us  in 
a  very  small  way  upon  a  claim  in  the  western  part  of  the 
state.  Perhaps  I  may  be  able  to  make  a  new  farm  that 
will  be  valuable  at  some  time  in  the  future.  We  shall  get 
on  in  some  fashion,  never  fear." 

"I  did  n't  know,  said  Mary,  "until  I  went  away,  how 
terribly  hard  women  can  be  toward  eacli  -other.  They 
seem  to  acknowledge  among  themselves,  that  they  occupy 
an  interior  position  and  so  when  they  have  a  semblance  of 
authority  over  others,  they  tyranni/e.  Mrs.  McFarland 
meant  to  be  just,  and  yet  she  was  terribly  hard  and  cruel 
to  the  kitchen  girls  and  chamber  maids,  of  whom  there 
were  three  or  four.  She  did  not  seem  to  think  that  they 
had  any  rights  or  privileges  and  all  her  little  power  ap 
peared  to  be  put  forth  to  crush  any  aspirations  which  they 
might  have.  Young  girls,  even  if  of  foreign  birth  and 
ignorant,  have  hopes  and  expectations,  and  yet,  so  far  as 
could  be  judged  by  her  actions,  Mrs.  McFarland  did  not 
acknowledge  their  right  to  think  of  anything  higher  than 
peeling  potatoes  or  washing  dishes.  There  must  be  truth 
in  the  Bible  account  of  the  subordinate  position  assigned 


io8  LOOKING 

to  women,  for  they  seemed  to  recogni/e  it  themselves. 
Cursed  themselves,  they  endeavor  quite  generally  to  keep 
from  rising,  those  whom  they  consider  as  occupying  a 
lower  position." 

"  Life  is  a  riddle  at  best,"  said  Mr.  Grafton,  "and  yet 
there  is  nothing  more  sure  than  that  injustice  perpetuates 
itself.  Slaves  made  the  meanest  over-seers."  After  a 
moment's  silence,  he  said: 

"I  think,  now  that  you  are  here,  Alary,  to  keep  your 
mother  company  for  the  summer,  that  as  soon  as  we  art- 
through  with  the  harvest,  I  will  go  on  a  prospecting  tour 
and  see  what  can  be  done  in  the  way  of  finding  a  new 
location,  and  when  that  is  determined  on.  will  make  tin: 
change,  while  we  yet  have  a  few  dollars  to  help  ourselves 
with.  For  if  we  remain  where  we  are  until  spring.  \vc 
shall  come  out  'spring  poor.'  and  unable  to  make  any 
change  whatever.'' 

Affairs  at  the  Grafton  homestead  moved  gently  along. 
Mary  was  both  guest  and  member  of  the  family.  Mother 
and  daughter  were  constantly  together,  and  the  mutual 
exchange  of  confidence  was  uninterrupted.  Together  they 
performed  the  tasks  of  the  day,  and  together  they  received 
the  occasional  calls  and  congratulations  of  well-wishers. 

At  a  church  "festival"  which  the  Graftons  attended  at 
Plainville,  shortly  after  Mary's  arrival  home,  Mr.  Ellery, 
the  minister,  was  the  first  to  congratulate  Mrs.  Grafton 
upon  having  so  charming  a  daughter. 

"I  thought,"  said  he,  "that  she  would  improve  her 
opportunities,  and  it  is  apparent  that  she  has  done  so. 
She  will  make  a  grand  woman  if  the  promise  of  her  youth 
is  kept." 

Mr.  Busteed,  who  was  present,  had  overheard  the 
eulogies  of  the  preacher,  and  shortly  after,  finding  him 
separated  from  the  Graftons,  took  him  to  task  for  the 
expression  of  his  views. 

"  Don't  you  know,"  said  he,  "that  Grafton  is  financially 
busted ;  that  he  has  got  to  leave  his  farm ;  that  he  is  mort- 


LOOK  IXC,   KORWARI).  109 

gaged  <>ut,  and  that,  it's  all  brought  about  by  his  extrava 
gant  management,  sending  that  girl  ofl'  to  an  expensive 
school,  and  the  like." 

"Well,  Mr.  1'usteed."  said  the  preacher,  <|iiite  decid 
edly,  "if  he  had  not  >ent  her,  he  would  have  failed  in  the 
most  important  duty  that  will  probably  come  to  him  while 
he  lives." 

"  P>ut  isn't  a  man's  first  duty  to  care  for  li is  family 
and  provide  for  their  wants.'' 

"  Yes.  but  you  ought  to  know  that  it  is  written  that 
'man  shall  not  live  by  bread  alone.'  Life,  Mr.  Bus  teed,  is 
a  problem,  a  preparation  for  something  to  come,  or.  it  is  a 
riddle  that  no  man  can  read.  Now,  this  being  the  main 
business  of  a  true  life. — tin;  enlargement  of  the  powers  of 
the  mind,  of  the  soul, — is  absolutely  the  only  way  to  make 
that  preparation:  to  increase  the  future  capital.'' 

"  Why.  Mr.  Kllery,  you  talk  like  a  free-thinker!  I 
thought  you  preached  Christ  and  free  Salvation?" 

•  So  1  do!  so  I  do!"  said  he,  with  a  twinkle  of  the  eye. 
"  I'.ut  1  want  Christ  to  have  something  that's  worth  saving 
for  1  i  is  trouble." 

Mr.  Bustccd  was  not  very  well  versed  in  theology,  or, 
indeed,  in  anything  hut  the  getting  of  money,  and  he 
moved  away  from  the  preacher  with  a  vague  idea  that 
Mr.  Kllery  was  becoming  radical,  or  in  some  way  departing 
from  the  orthodox  standards. 

Mr.  Bustced  was  a  church  member  for  much  the  same 
reason  a-  that  which  induced  him  to  insure  his  property. 
Having  paid  the  premium  and  placed  the  policies  in  his 
safe,  the  matter  was  dismissed  from  his  mind.  Somebody 
cl<e  was  carrying  his  risks  and  he  did  not  propose  to 
trouble  himself  further  in  relation  to  the  matter.  In 
religion,  "Jesus  paid  it  all"  came  very  near  expressing  his 
creed.  To  be  sure,  a  man  ought  not  to  be  guilty  of  "out 
breaking"  sin,  but  men,  in  his  opinion,  are  very  fallible 
creatures.  In  total  depravity  he  firmly  believed, — man 
was  bad  by  nature;  entirely  so,  and  as  he  couldn't  make 


HO  LOOKING  FORWARD. 

himself  better  if  he  tried,  he  "let  out  the  job,"  as  he,  him 
self,  expressed  it,  and  in  his  view,  his  duty  consisted  only 
in  occasionally  interviewing  his  Agent,  who  had  the  whole 
matter  in  charge.  As  for  himself,  being  "diligent  in  busi 
ness"  was  the  duty  which,  in  hie:  opinion,  overshadowed 
all  others.  Thus  equipped  and  prepared,  he  was  able,  not 
only  to  deal  harshly  with  those  who  came  into  his  power, 
but  to  justify  himself  with  what  he  termed  "religion/1  and 
woe  to  the  luckless  wight  who  failed  not  only  in  paying 
notes,  but  in  "believing,"  as  well;  for  such,  the  world  had 
no  room. 

Mr.  Busteed  did  not  fail  to  note  that  at  the  festival^ 
Mary  Grafton  was  the  observed  of  all  observers.  Mary 
had  always  been  a  favorite,  but  to  the  general  favor  with 
which  she  had  been  received  was  now  added  somewhat  of 
curiosity  in  viewing  the  girl  who  was  struggling,  not  for 
social  recognition,  dress  and  the  triumphs  of  so-called 
society,  but  rather  for  education  and  intellectual  advance 
ment.  Easily,  she  was  the  queen  of  the  evening,  and  to 
Busteed  the  fact  was  an  enigma.  He  could  not  solve  it. 
She  wasn't  as  pretty  as  doll-faced  Jenny  Harris,  and  her 
dress  was  plain;  jewelry,  she  had  none;  her  people  were 
poor,  with  prospects  of  future  poverty  in  store. 

Moving  uneasily  away,  Busteed  came  in  contact  with 
Grafton,  slightly  irritated, — why,  he  knew  not;  he  would 
have  passed  without  speaking,  but  this  he  could  not  well 
do  without  appearing  to  offer  rudeness  to  an  old  acquaint 
ance.  He  did  not  want  to  do  that. 

"Well,  Grafton,"  said  he,  "they  tell  me  that  you  are 
going  to  leave  your  farm?" 

"Yes,  that  is  my  intention;  in  fact  I  shall  be  obliged 
to  do  so." 

"Obliged?  Why,  you  will  go  of  your  own  free  will, 
won't  you?" 

"No!  circumstances  will  compel  me." 

"  Well,  you  are  responsible  for  the  circumstances,  aint 
you?" 


LOOKING    FORWARD.  Ill 

V    ' 

"The  reason  why  I  shall  leave  the  farm,"  said  Grai'tmi, 
"is  because  I  can  not  raise  money  enough,  by  cropping,  to 
pav  interest  on  money  at  a  high  rate  of  interest,  at  the 
low  prices  of  my  products,  and  between  these  t\v<>  the  nec 
essity  arises.  These  two  items  tell  the  whole  story." 

"Well.  (Jrafton,  farming  must  he  profitable  generally, 
or  so  many  would  not  remain  in  the  business.  Halt  our 
people  in  this  country  are  farmers,  and  it  must  be  that 
they  are  satisfied  or  they  would  quit  a  business  that  did  n't 
pay . ' ' 

"You.  forget,  Busteed,  that  opportunity  is  lacking  for 
general  change.  It  can't  ho  done!  Look  at  the  reports  in 
the  papers  of  the  horrible  conditions  of  the  coal-miners  in 
many  places.  You  say,  if  they  don't  like  their  business 
Met  them  quit;'  but  they  can't.  Men  do  not  easily  change 
the  habits  of  a  life !  Thousands  of  women  and  girls  are 
stitching  their  liyes  away  for  a  few  cents  a  day.  You  say, 
'if  their  work  doesn't  suit,  let  them  quit'.  But  it  is  im 
possible.  Men  and  women,  in  the  mass,  are  bound  by 
their  surroundings.  The  peons  of  Mexico  might  emigrate 
-and  the  factory  operatives  might  stop  their  wasting  toil, 
if  it  were  possible,  but  in  the  mass,  and  in  general,  it  is 
not.  Conditions  are  made  for  most  men.  and  most  men 
are  dissatisfied,  in  part  at  least,  but  environment  is  too 
powerful  to  allow  radical  change.  Men  who  know  that 
they  are  in  the  trying-pan,  fear  the  fire." 

"Then,  according  to  your  view,  most  folks  are  being 
friend  for  their  fat?" 

"Substantially,  that's  true! 

"Well,  who's  a  doing  the  frying?"  said  Bustecd.  rather 
hotly. 

m 

"I  will  answer  yon  as  Horace  (ireeley  did  an  inquirer 
a  good  many  years  ago,  when  he  told  his  questioner  that 
the  great  difference  between  the  wealthy  and  prosperous 
and  the  poor  and  impoverisht-d.  \vas  brought  about  by  the 
fact  that  one  class  paid  interest  on  money  and  the  other 
received  it.' 


112  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

"Well,  if  interest  is  such  a  power,  why  shouldn't  men 
save,  and  shortly  they  could  begin  to  loan?" 

"  We  were  talking  about  people  at  large,  the  general 
public,  not  special  cases.  Now,  if  everybody  undertook 
loaning,  who  would  they  loan  to?" 

"  Oh,  shucks,"  said  Busteed,  with  a  disgusted  air;  "let 
every  fellow  look  out  for  himself  and  do  the  best  he  can, 
that's  my  plan." 

"Yes,"  said  Graf  ton,  "that's  the  way  they  do  in  hell!" 

Both  men  had,  by  this  time,  become  somewhat  heated 
by  their  controversy,  and  realizing  that  the  place  was  not 
suitable  to  a  discussion,  they  separated,  each  somewhat 
disgusted  with  the  other. 

The  festival  soon  came  to  an  end.  Not  so,  with  its 
consequences. 

Mr.  Busteed  felt  somewhat  aggrieved  at  what  he  con 
sidered  the  rather  lax  views  of  Mr.  Ellery,  and  openly 
questioned  whether  it  might  not  be  time  to  make  a  change 
in  the  pastorate.  Indeed,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  charge 
the  good  man  with  advocating  unsound  views  upon  the 
"atonement,"  and,  said  he,  ''that  is  a  mighty  important 
matter,  and  we  can't  afford  to  allow  any  bod}-  to  preach 
unsound  doctrine,  when  it  won't  cost  any  more  to  have 
the  matter  straight." 

Thus  bad  begun,  while  worse  remained  behind. 
Within  a  day  or  two,  Mr.  Grafton  heard  it  reported  that 
he  and  Busteed  had  "almost  fit"  at  the  festival  ;  that  Bus 
teed  had  said  that  he  would  fry  the  fat  out  of  Grafton,  and 
that  Grafton  had  told  Busteed  to  go  to  hell. 


I.OOKIXC,    FORWARD. 


CIIA  I'TKU     VI  I. 

MR.   HI-LHRV   IN'  TRorHLK. 

()T  only  was  all  Plainville  very  much 
interested  in  the  questions  which  appeared 
to  have  arisen  at  the  festival,  but  the  sur 
rounding  country,  as  well,  took  them  up. 
No  person  could  be  found  who  was  not 
ready  to  express  an  opinion  or  back  it  up,  if 
need  be,  with  arguments  more  or  less  weighty. 
The  controversy  very  soon  took  the  shape  which 
might  have  been  seen  from  the  first,  and  the  two 
sides,  which  are  necessary  to  a  quarrel  of  any 
sort,  resolved  themselves  into  those  who  attacked 
and  those  who  defended  Mr.  Ellery. 
Busteed  led  the  attack  ;  Mr.  Ellery  had  previously 
shown  signs  of  independence,  but  at  the  festival  he  had 
openly  opposed  him,  and  as  he  furnished  the  larger  share  of 
the  preacher's  support,  this,  in  his  opinion,  was  rank  in 
gratitude  and  deserved  fitting  punishment.  The  officers 
and  more  prominent  members  of  the  church  sympathized 
with  Mr.  Ellery,  but  felt  called  upon  by  the  exigencies  of 
the  situation  to  act  with  Busteed,  and  Mr.  Ellen-  shortly 
found  himself  in  the  queer  position  of  one  who  was  openly 
defended,  with  one  or  two  exceptions  only,  by  those  outside 
of  his  flock.  All  treated  him  with  deference  and  no  one 
attempted  argument  with  him,  but  wherever  two  or  three 
were  gathered  together  the  matter  in  dispute  was  sure  to  be 
introduced  and  discussed,  generally  with  much  heat  and 
feeling.  Gradually,  too,  the  subject  under  discussion,  as  is 
often  the  case,  underwent  change  as  discussion  proceeded. 
Busteed  had  charged  Mr.  Ellery  with  giving  utterance  to 
unsound  doctrine  and  proposed  his  dismissal  upon  that 
ground,  although  it  was  very  generally  felt  that  his  real 
reason  was  the  fact  that  Mr.  EHlery  was  disposed  to  free 
himself  from  the  rather  irksome  control  exercised  by  Bus 
teed  over  the  affairs  of  the  church.  This  had  been  the 


Il6  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

original  cause,  but  in  the  discussions  which  followed  it  was 
shown  that  the  preacher  had  taken  sides  with  Grafton  and 
against  Busteed.  That  he  had  upheld  the  idea  that  the 
fanner  and  his  family  were  entitled  to  the  good  things  of 
life  and  society,  as  well  as  those  who  only  absorbed  what 
others  had  created.  He  had  thus  become,  in  the  eyes  of  the 
farmers,  their  champion.  Discussion  proceeded  upon  the 
new  base  and  would  have  shortly  left  Mr.  Ellery  entirely 
out  of  the  question,  had  not  something  occurred  which  again 
made  him  a  prominent  figure. 

Mr.  Ellery  possessed  a  very  modest  turn-out,  in  the 
shape  of  a  horse  and  buggy.  The  horse  was  fat  and  sleek, 
but  somewhat  the  worse  for  many  years  of  wear ;  still  the 
preacher  and  his  wife  contrived  to  extract  a  deal  of  comfort 
from  the  possession  of  these  means  of  locomotion. 

One  morning,  while  the  controversy  was  at  its  height 
when  Mr.  Ellery  went  to  the  stable  to  feed  his  horse,  he 
was  horrified  to  find  that  some  miscreant  had  entered  the 
stable  during  the  previous  night  and  sheared  the  old  horse's 
mane  and  the  hair  from  his  tail  completely  and  smoothly. 
In  addition,  the  wretch  had,  with  white  paint,  traced  on  the 
sides  of  the  poor  beast,  broad  strips  of  white,  evidentlv  in. 
tended  to  represent  ribs;  about  his  eyes  an  enormous  pair 
of  spectacles  had  been  painted  in  white,  by  the  same  villain 
ous  hand. 

The  result  was  appalling!  Deeply  injured  as  he  was, 
Mr.  Ellery  could  not  forbear  laughing  ac  the  odd  expression 
produced  in  the  looks  of  the  poor  beast  by  the  spectacles. 
For  the  moment  he  was  almost  stunned  by  the  sense  of 
personal  injury  involved  in  the  indignity  thus  thrust  upon 
him  ;  the  next  instant  he  hurried  into  the  house  to  acquaint 
his  wife  with  the  new  phase  which  the  argument  against 
him  had  taken. 

Mrs.  Ellery  could  see  nothing  to  laugh  at  in  the 
mournful  condition  of  the  poor  beast,  and  at  once  set  to  work 
to  see  if  the  paint  would  rub  off.  But  it  had  u  been  done  in 
oil,''  though  evidently  not  by  one  of  the  old  masters.  They 


*•• 


*• 


MR.    ELLERY, 


LOOKTM;  F<>KW  M:I>.  1 19 

could  not  remove  the  paint,  and  as  anything  which  would 
remove  it  would  probably  remove  the  hair  also,  they  were  at 
a  standstill  regarding  further  procedure. 

After  breakfast  the  parson  went  over  to  "Uncle  "  Bill 
Weldon's  blacksmith  shop.  Uncle  Bill  had  shod  the  horse 
from  time  to  time,  and,  like  most  blacksmiths,  having  picked 
up  a  knowledge  of  many  things  useful  to  the  keepers  of 
horses,  Mr.  Ellery  had  gradually  come  to  consider  him  the 
proper  person  to  consult  whenever  anything  ailed  his 
horse.  Something  ailed  him  now — that  was  clear.  He 
went  for  advice  : 

"Mr.  Weldon,"  said  he,  "I  want  you  to  go  over  and 
see  my  horse  !  " 

"  Sartin,  sartin,"  said  Uncle  Bill ;  "what  'pears  to  be 
the  matter  with  him  ?  " 

On  the  way  the  preacher  related  the  whole  shameful 
story. 

"That's  John  Busteed!"  said  the  blacksmith;  "I've 
heard  him  poke  fun  at  the  old  hoss,  and  I  remember  some 
time  ago  of  his  making  spectacles  with  chalk  over  an  old 
horse's  eyes.  Them  specs  vvas  soon  rubbed  off,  but  the  idee 
is  the  same,  and  there  ain't  another  one  in  the  place  that 
would  have  thought  of  harming  your  horse,  but  him.  He's 
the  feller." 

After  viewing  the  horse,  Weldon  prevailed  upon  Mr. 
Bllery  to  turn  him  over  to  his  care. 

"I'll  scrape  off  what  I  can,"  said  he,  "with  a  right 
sharp  knife  and  then  I'll  go  over  him  careful  with  benzine, 
and  I  can  clean  him  off,  I  guess,  quite  natural ;  the  mane 
and  tail,  however,  is  cleaned  off  quite  on-natural.  It'll  take 
some  time,  and  lots  of  it,  to  fix  them.'' 

Weldon  was  one  of  Mr.  Ellery 's  partisans  ;  and  the 
opportunity  of  showing  up  the  miserable  character  of  "the 
opposition''  was  altogether  too  good  a  one  to  be  allowed  to 
pass  unimproved.  Before  the  morning  had  passed,  and 
while  Mr.  Weldon  was  engaged  in  scraping  the  paint  from 
the  horse's  sides,  most  male  inhabitants  of  the  village  had 


I2O  LOOKING  FORWARD. 

viewed  the  animal  and  expressed  an  opinion  as  to  the  author 
of  the  deed.  None  thought  the  elder  Busteed  privy  to  the 
transaction,  but  all  felt  that  the  insult  to  the  worthy  owner, 
which  insult  each  partisan  took  home  to  himself,  had  been 
the  result  of  the  objections  raised  by  Busteed  to  Mr.  Ellery. 

"The  idee  is,"  said  one,  rather  more  intemperate  in  his 
speech  than  the  rest,  "  that  no  body  has  a  right  to  do  any 
thing  or  say  any  thing  contrary  to  the  wishes  of  the  fellows 
with  money.  Old  Busteed  and  the  fellows  that  work  with 
him  fix  money  matters  around  here  pretty  much  as  they 
like,  and  now  he's  trying  to  say  what  the  preacher  shall 
think.  Must  be  something  he's  afraid  of,  for  just  as  soon 
as  Mr.  Ellery  had  but  a  word  of  encouragement  for  Grafton's 
idees,  Busteed  is  determined  to  get  rid  of  him." 

The  shearing  of  the  parson's  horse  aroused  a  depth  of 
feeling  among  all  classes  of  people  in  the  vicinity  almost 
unprecedented,  and  discussions  involving  the  rights  of 
thought  and  property  and  the  control  which  one  man  might 
rightfully  exercise  over  another  were  every  where  .rife. 

It  so  happened  at  the  time  of  these  occurrences  that  the 
Farmers'  Alliance  was  being  organized  in  the  vicinity  of 
Plainville,  and  to  the  questions  which  had  taken  their  rise, 
as  the  reader  has  seen,  in  the  discussions  between  Messrs. 
Grafton,  Ellery  and  Busteed,  were  added  the  general  subject 
of  the  relations  of  capital  and  labor,  as  exemplified  by  the 
Alliance  and  the  right  of  the  producer  of  wealth  to  an 
equitable  share  of  his  own  production. 

Feeling  ran  high  ;  no  one  escaped,  and  a  disposition 
was  manifested  to  question  much  which  had  heretofore 
passed  without  challenge. 

Mr.  Grafton  made  his  trip  into  the  western  part  of  the 
state,  as  he  had  announced.  Instead  of  going,  as  he  had 
intended,  by  wagon,  upon  reflection  he  had  changed  his 
plan  and  taken  the  cars.  A  few  days'  sojourn  in  a  western 
county  was  sufficient.  It  was  apparent  that  all  the  difficult 
ies  which  surrounded  the  farmer  in  the  vicinity  of  Plainville 
were  in  full  force,  or  would  soon  come  into  play  in  the 


LOOKING   FORWARD.  121 

\vestern  counties,  and  that  to  these  difficulties  would  be 
added  a  greater  uncertainty  in  cropping,  which  he  did  not 
care  to  test.  "Uncle  Sam's"  desirable  farms  were  all  taken 
in  Kansas;  that  was  sure! 

He  had  fully  made  up  his  mind  to  leave  the  farm  before 
he  was  compelled  to  do  so,  and  while  the  opportunity  for 
disposing  of  his  equities  yet  remained. 

Being  in  Plainville  one  day  he  thought  he  would  ask 
Mr.  Busteed  if  he  could  tell  him  how  he  could  make  the 
change.  He  did  not  expect  much  help  from  Busteed,  but 
as  he  was  familiar  with  all  the  business  transactions  of  the 
vicinity,  it  occurred  to  him  that  some  hint  of  advantage 
might  possibly  be  obtained. 

Enquiring  for  Mr.  Busteed,  he  was  told  that  he  was  in 
his  office.  Entering,  he  found  Mr.  Busteed,  in  company 
with  a  farmer  with  whom  lie  was  well  acquainted. 

"  I  don't  want  to  intrude,'1  said  Grafton,  politely,  "but 
I  just  called  to  ask  if  you  could  put  me  onto  a  way  of  trad 
ing  my  farm  ?  " 

"  No  intrusion,  Grafton,  sit  down!"  said  Busteed,  quite 
pleasantly  ;  "  I  would  do  anything  I  could  for  you,  in  reason, 
though  I  don't  expect  you  would  give  me  credit  for  it,  if  I 
did.  Fact  is,  Grafton,  yon  are  not  disposed  to  give  me  any 
show  for  my  life.  I  expect  one  of  these  days  the  Farmers' 
Alliance  will  order  me  before  it  for  trial.  I  understand  that 
you  are  a  prominent  member,  and  I  would  n't  be  surprised 
to  have  you  turn  up  as  one  of  the  judges  to  try  my  case  " — 
and  the  money-loaner  laughed  as  though  he  had  said  some 
thing  quite  witty. 

"You  seem  to  think  you  ought  to  be  tried,"  said  Grafton. 

"  Oh,  come  now  !  don't  be  so  sharp  !  don't  you  see  how 
good-natured  I  am  ?  I  believe  in  ever)rbody  having  a  fair 
show,  and  then  if  they  don't  take  advantage  of  their  oppor 
tunities,  why  I  don't  know  what  more  can  be  done ;  people 
can't  be  like  little  birds  and  have  their  victuals  just  pushed 
down  their  throats.  Some  of  you  folks  that  talk  so  much 
of  the  government  doing  this  and  that,  appear  to  want  the 


122  LOOKING    POBWAJ8D. 

government  to  feed  those  who  won't  hunt  worms  ;  now  I  am 
satisfied  to  hunt  for  my  worms  !  " 

"  That  may  be  all  right  for  you,"  said  Grafton,  "  but 
how  do  you  suppose  it  suits  the  worms  you  catch  ?" 

"  Can't  seem  to  please  you  at  all  to-day,"  said  Busteed, 
"and  I  am  sure  I  don't  know  of  any  chance  to  trade  your 
farm,  just  now.  Might  be  a  chance  this  fall,  if  there  is  any 
immigration  comes  in,  and  we  raise  a  good  crop.  I  should 
just  like  to  know  now,  Grafton,  why  we  can't  get  along?  I 
am  sure  I  have  the  kindest  feelings  in  the  world  for  you, 
and  yet  you  seem  to  think  I  am  a  horrible  kind  of  a  man. 
What's  the  reason  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  enlarge  on  the  feeling.  Men  who  think  as 
you  do  are  too  common  to  consider  horrible,  but  the  differ 
ence  in  mode  of  thought  between  your  class  of  men  and  the 
class  of  men  being  rapidly  created  by  the  Alliance,  is 
radical.  Now  we  believe  that  no  man  should  possess  pro. 
perty  or  have  anything  which  he  did  not  either  earn  or 
recive  in  exchange  for  soma  valuable  consideration,  or  as  a 
free  gift." 

u  Why,  I  believe  that !  You  can't  shut  me  out  on  such 
a  rule  as  that !  Fact  is,  that  is  a  rule  of  law,  as  I  under 
stand  it." 

"  Well,  now,"  said  Grafton,  "  let  us  test  this  rule.  A 
man  buys  lottery  tickets  in,  let  us  suppose,  an  honestly- 
conducted  lottery  ;  the  drawing  takes  place  and  he  draws  a 
blank  ;  now  for  the  money  that  he  had  paid  for  his  ticket 
did  he  receive  a  valuable  consideration — was  the  exchange 
between  the  buyer  of  the  ticket  and  the  seller,  an  equitable 
one  that  should  be  upheld  by  the  law?  " 

"  By  no  means !"  said  Busteed,  very  cheerfully;  "the 
man  who  bought  the  ticket  is  swindled,  because  his  chance 
of  gain  is  so  remote  the  law  very  properly  steps  in  and 
prevents  lotteries,  as  opposed  to  public  policy,  even  if  hon 
estly  conducted,  on  the  ground  that  the  general  public 
must  necessarily  lose  large  amounts  of  its  money,  with  no 
return.  The  lottery  company  gets  the  money  of  the  public, 


LOOKING    FOKWAKI).  123 

without  retuming  a  valuable  consideration.  The  law  holds 
that  the  thousandth  part  of  a  chance  to  win  is  no  chance  at 
all,  and  prevents  the  swindle,  because  the  company  fails  to 
return  the  valuable  consideration  which  must  be  given  to 
constitute  an  equitable  exchange.  Oh,  I  am  solid  on  that ! 
Prove  '  no  consideration  '  and  you  can  knock  any  contract 
cold." 

"  Seven-eighths  of  our  farmers  are  living  on  mortgaged 
farms,"  said  Grafton  ;  "  the  mortgage  is  made  to  secure  the 
return  of  the  money  borrowed;  interest  is  paid  in  addition. 
Now,  you  know  that  under  present  circumstances,  the  givers 
of  these  mortgages  have  no  more  chance  of  paying  off  their 
mortgages  than  the  holders  of  lottery  tickets  have  of  draw 
ing  fortunes.  A  few  may  be  able  to  pay  and  a  few  may 
draw  prizes,  but  generally  speaking,  it  will  be  impossible, 
and  you  money-loaners  know  it.  Now  let  us  see  how  it 
works  in  actual  practice.  There  is  Charles  Hagley,  a 
steady,  hard-working  man,  with  a  small  family,  who  has 
been  in  debt  and  struggling  along  for  four  years.  *He  has 
had  to  have  money,  and  has  paid  your  bank  the  highest 
rates  for  it ;  in  order  to  get  money,  he  has  sometimes  paid 
large  premiums,  in  addition  to  the  interest.  Then,  he  has 
bought  teams  and  machinery,  often  paying  a  premium 
above  cash  price,  in  order  to  buy  'on  time' — the  only  way 
he  could  buy.  He  began  farming  with  only  a  capital  of  a 
few  hundred  dollars.  He  bought  a  quarter-section  farm  for 
$1800,  worked  hard  on  it  for  four  years,  spent  no  idle  time 
and  fooled  away  no  money,  except  to  your  bank  for  interest. 
At  the  end  of  the  four  years  the  place  is  sold  for  $3800, 
owing  to  the  advance  in  land  caused  by  the  big  crops  of 
wheat  raised  those  years.  Charley  pays  up  his  notes  and 
finds  he  hasn't  puite  as  much  left,  after  four  years' hard 
work,  as  he  began  with.  And  further,  he  has  kept  a  book- 
account  which  shows  that  he  has  paid  in  premiums  and  for 
interest,  for  the  use  of  money,  between  twenty-two  and 

*  Actual  record  of  a  case,  and  literally  true. 


124  LOOKING  FORWARD. 

twenty-three  hundred  dollars  in  four  years.  At  the  end  of 
the  time  he  is  cleaned  out  and  turned  adrift ;  now,  what  has 
he  got  for  the  more  than  two  thousand  dollars  of  interest 
which  he  has  paid  ?  The  '  machine  '  has  taken  from  him 
this  money,  the  result  of  his  toil ;  what  did  it  return  him  as 
an  equivalent  ?  Did  he  really  get  anything  ? 

"Why,  he  must  have  thought  he  was  getting  some 
thing,  or  he  would  n't  have  paid  the  money  !  " 

"  Of  course  he  was  fooled,"  said  Grafton,  "but  it's  clear 
now  that  he  really  got  nothing.  He  might  as  well  have 
played  against  a  faro  bank.  Charley's  money  is  gone  from 
him;  your  bank  has  got  the  most  of  it;  what's  the  '  con 
sideration  '  you  gave  him,  and  where  is  it  ?  Charley's  case 
is  a  little  more  pronounced  than  a  good  many  others,  be 
cause  he  went  through  the  flint-mill  so  quick,  and  we  all 
know  the  facts,  but  if  we  figure  right  down  close,  we  find 
that  most  farmers  are  on  the  same  road  and  certain  to  land 
in  the  same  net.  The  fact  is,  in  all  these  transactions  there 
has  been  no  equitable  consideration  returned  for  the  huge 
amounts  they  have  paid  as  interest  and,  as  you  say,  if  an 
equitable  consideration  is  lacking,  the  business  is  in  the 
nature  of  a  fraud.  It  is  a  skin  game.  We  have  become  so 
familiar,  however,  with  this  way  of  doing  business,  and  it 
has  been  practiced  so  long,  that  we  can  not  blame  the  parties 
who  fail  to  see  the  wrongfulness  of  it.  People  are  led  by 
their  interest  until  they  are  completely  blinded.  Society  is 
to  blame,  the  church  is  to  blame,  but  no  individual,  no  set 
of  individuals,  no  class  of  men,  can  be  charged  with  this 
wrong.  And  yet  the  law  upholds  it.  Society  would  hold 
up  its  hands  in  holy  horror  if  the  law-makers  should  protect 
and  enforce  the  demands  of  card-gamblers,  and  yet  the  re 
sults  of  their  demands  would  be  no  worse  for  the  victims 
than  is  the  case  under  the  present  system.  True,  it  is  quite 
respectable  to  be  on  the  winning  side,  in  this  game ;  the 
churches  uphold  it,  but  that  really  shows  nothing.  I  sup 
pose  that  there  is  no  form  of  injustice  between  man  and 
man  worse  than  chattel  slavery,  but  that  was  upheld  by  the 


LOOKING    FORWARD.  125 

churches,  and  those  who  would  abolish  it  were  denied  all 
social  recognition,  not  so  very  long  ago.  So  you  see,  Mr. 
Busleed,  that  there  is  a  radical  difference  between  our  ideas 
of  right  and  wrong,  to  start  out  with.  Now,  I  suppose  you 
would  not  say  that  a  man  ought  always  to  have  all  he  earns?'' 

"Why,"  said  Busteed,  "if  a  man  was  always  to  get  all 
he  earned,  how  could  it  pay  any  man  to  hire  another?  " 

"That's  not  the  point  at  all!  never  mind  that  bridge 
until  you  come  to  it; — the  question  is  :  ought  a  man  to  have 
all  he  earns  ?  I  say,  'yes.'  You  say  'no,1  and  seek  for  a 
plan  to  take  from  him  some  portion  of  his  earnings.  That 
is  the  spirit  which  resulted  in  slavery.  You  propose  to  toll 
.his  earnings  bv  some  financial  arrangement;  it  makes  no 
difference  how  it  is  accomplished,  if  you  take  from  him  the 
profits  of  his  labor,  you  enslave  him.'' 

It  is  not  probable  that  Mr.  Busteed  had  ever  given 
serious  consideration  to  the  thoughts  presented  by  Grafton 
before,  but  as  he  happened  to  be  in  good  humor,  he  had 
determined  to  remain  on  good  terms  with  Grafton  in  any 
event  so  he  curbed,  for  the  moment,  any  feeling  of  resent 
ment  he  may  have  felt,  saying: 

"Well,  it's  plain  we  don't  look  at  things  alike,  biit  our 
interests  in  the  long  run  ought  to  be  the  same.  Whatever 
is  for  the  best  interests  of  the  community  ought  to  please 
us  both." 

"Oh,  yes,''  said  Grafton,  "the  only  question  is  as  to 
what  is  really  for  the  best  interests  of  people  generally!  " 

As  Grafton  came  out  of  the  office  he  saw  gathered  a 
knot  of  men  eagerly  discussing  something  which  they 
apparently  regarded  as  quite  important.  As  he  was  pass 
ing,  Weldon,  who  made  one  of  the  gathering,  called  to  him: 

"  Say,  George,  look  here !  " 

"What  is  it?"  said  he. 

"  Why  it  is  this,"  said  Weldon;  "  I  have  got  a  clue,  so 
that  I  know  positively  that  John  Busteed  sheared  and 
painted  the  preacher's  horse,  and  I  thought  I'd  get  your 
idea  of  what  we'd  ought  to  do  about  it." 


126 


LOOKING  FORWARD. 


"  What's  your  clue  ?  " 

"  Well,  let  me  tell  you,  John  was  seen  to  drive  out  of 
town  in  his  buggy,  and  he  threw,  when  he  thought  no  one 
was  looking,  an  old  paint  can  and  brush  over  the  bank  into 
the  creek  ;  it  did  n't  happen  to  strike  the  water,  and  some 
boys  who  were  there  brought  it  in.  The  paint  left  in  tho 
can  matches  that  on  the  horse ;  it  is  not  exactly  white." 

"Well,"  said  Grafton,  "it  looks  as  though  you  had  him 
there!" 

"  Why,  of  course  ;  but  what  had  we  better  do  ?  " 

"  Well  what's  wanted  is,  first,  to  make  the  parson's  loss 
good.  I  should  say  that  if  half  a  dozen  should  go  to  old 
man  Busteed  and  put  the  case  right  at  him,  that  he  would 
get  the  preacher  another  horse." 


LOO  KING    FO  R  \V  A  R  D . 


129 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

CAUK  AND  COUNSEL. 

INCK  the  events  recorded  in  the  last  chap 
ter  a  year  has  passed. 

Mr.   Ellery   was  yet  in    Plainville.     The 
clumsy   effort   made   to  disgrace  him   pro 
duced  the  opposite  effect  from 
what   had    been    intended,  and 
made   every    well-disposed    in 
habitant  of  the  town  his  friend: 
and  even  Mr.  Busteed,  after  the  disclo 
sures  implicating  his  son  had  been  made 
public,  was  prevented   from  advocating 
his  removal  by  the   feeling,  that  for  the 
present  at  least,  his  opposition  must  cease. 

As  Graf  ton  had  proposed,  u  self-appointed  commit  let- 
waited  upon  Mr.  Busteed  and  told  him  plainly  that  in 
their  opinion  he  ought  to  get  tho  preacher  another  horse, 
(^uite  a  stormy  scene  ensued,  in  which  Busteed  denied  and 
scouted  the  evidence  which  they  presented,  but  finally 
agreed  to  send  Mr.  Kllery's  horse  to  one  of  his  farms,  at  a 
distance,  and  to  lend  him  another  until  such  time  as  the 
ill-usd  beast  should  be  fit  to  be  seen  in  public.  The  change 
had  been  made  by  the  committee  at  once,  and  although  a 
year  had  passed,  no  thought  of  the  old  horse's  return  was 
expressed. 

Mary  was  again  at  home,  albeit  the  home  had  been 
removed,  ('hanged  somewhat  she  was,  with  added  charms 
of  mind  and  person,  and  with  it  all  an  increase  of  that  air 
of  rapt  abandonment  of  self  to  high  living  and  thinking 
which  so  seldom  comes  to  the  young  and  lovely,  but  when 
given  to  comely  form  and  winning  ways,  the  world  is 
assured  that  nature  has  set  her  seal  upon  a  masterpiece 
whose  living  and  breathing  soul  shall  carry  with  it  a  les- 
of  sweetness  and  of  light. 


130  LOOKING  FORWARD. 

Grafton  had  struggled  along  as  best  he  could.  Since 
the  time  of  the  second  mortgage  he  had  only  looked  for 
ward  to  being  able  to  make  some  arrangement  by  which 
he  might  be  able  to  receive  for  the  farm  some  reasonable 
portion  of  what  he  considered  its  value,  over  the  amount 
of  the  mortgage. 

The  knowledge  that  they  were  about  to  be  obliged  to 
leave  their  home  weighed  heavily  upon  Mrs.  Grafton. 
She  had  been  much  attached  to  the  farm;  it  was  her  home; 
withdrawn  from  the  world,  here  she  felt  at  ease.  To  lose 
the  home  was  to  be  obliged  again  to  begin  an  unequal 
struggle.  If  they  left  the  farm,  life  in  town  or  village  was 
a  necessity,  and  with  this  she  had  been  familiar  in  other 
years.  Grafton  cared  little  for  appearances  or  for  the 
thoughts  of  others;  self-centered,  he  depended  upon  his 
own  opinion  of  himself:  if  his  own  conduct  met  the  rather 
critical  examination  which  he  gave  it,  it  mattered  little  to 
him  what  others  might  think.  With  his  wife  it  was 
different.  More  sensitive  naturally,  she  had  also  been 
more  exposed  to  social  slights,  which,  although  consisting 
only  of  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  a  drawing  away  of  the 
skirts  or  a  cool  "  looking  over,"  has  for  the  sensitive  and 
shrinking  woman,  more  terror  than  rough  words  and  blows 
to  men  of  nerve. 

During  the  past  year  she  had  brooded  upon  the 
change  which  she  felt  must  come.  The  fear  of  coming 
want,  which  is  the  motive-power  of  much  of  the  world's 
activity,  which  impels  the  hardy  mariner  to  brave  the 
danger  of  the  seas,  which  nerves  the  arm  of  the  mechanic 
and  speeds  the  steps  of  the  ploughman  upon  the  windy 
plain,  is  also  weighing  upon  the  mind  of  the  lonely 
woman  in  the  farm-house  kitchen,  as  she  wearily  makes 
her  accustomed  rounds. 

Mrs.  Grafton 's  health,  never  robust,  began   gradually 
to  fail.     She  had  reached  that  age  when  the  powers  of  life 
begin  to  wane.     Depressed  in  mind  by  the  necessities  of 
their  position,  fearful  of  the  future,  her  heart  sank  within. 


LOOK  INC,    FOR  WAR  i>. 

her  ;is  she  contemplated  the  coming  on  of  age  which  in 
hrr  mind's  eye  was  accompanied  by  deprivation  and  pov 
erty.  Mary  hud  Keen  to  her  hoth  daughter  and  companion, 
and  upon  the  lofty  spirit  of  her  child  she  hud  gradually 
c<»iiie  to  lean.  For  the  future  their  lives  were  separated  ; 
she  would  not  have  it  otherwise:  it  must  he  so!  Mary 
must  advance!  how — she  kne\v  not :  hut  it  was  clear  to  her 
woman's  intuitive  thought,  that  for  Mary  there  wu~.  there 
must  he.  a  future  which  should  take  hold  upon  those 
higher  and  ennobling  iields  which  her  life  hud  failed  to 
reach.  She  gloried  in  that  looking  forward  which  she  felt 
she  could  not  share  and  on  which  she  could  exert  no  fur 
ther  influence.  Struggle  ugainM  the  feeling  as  she  would, 
the  thought  impressed  itself  upon  her,  more  and  more, 
that  her  work  in  life  was  done.  Her  little  son  clung  to 
her  us  though,  to  his  child-like  and  simple  vision  had 
been  revealed  the  loss  of  that  gentle  spirit  to  whom  he  hud 
never  gone  for  love  and  sympathy  in  his  childish  troubles 
without  receiving  that  comfort  and  consolation  which,  to 
a  child,  is  like  to  nothing  short  of  the  everlasting  Arm 
of  the  Father.  Her  hu-bund  strove  to  awaken  anew  the 
thoughts  and  hopes  of  younger  and  happier  days.  To  his 
caresses  she  returned  u  mild  and  languid  recognition,  but 
the,  work  and  the  struggles  of  life  had  worn  upon  her 
physical  frame;  failing  health  left  its  impress  upon  her, 
and  melancholy  seemed  to  mark  her  for  its  own.  As  her 
family  gathered  about  her,  each  intent  upon  her  happiness, 
she  exerted  herself  to  appear  pleased  at  every  attention 
and  satisfied  with  their  presence;  but  they  could  not  rouse 
her  from  the  mental  condition  which  physical  weakness 
had  fastened  upon  her.  When  Mary  sat  by  her  side;  and 
held  her  hand  she  seemed  supremely  content,  and  at  such 
times  was  manifested  that  wonderful  and  mysterious  pro 
cess  by  which  there  seems  to  take  place  a  transfusion  of 
spirit.  With  Mary's  bund  in  hers,  they  were  one  again ; 
one  spirit  possessed  them!  One  thought  animated  them  ! 
The  mother  lived  anew  in  her  daughter.  What  she  had 


132  LOOKING   FORWARD. 

ilared  in  the  bright  dreams  <>f  youth,  hor  child  should 
realize!  In  her  weakness,  time  and  physical  sense  fled 
away,  and  the  windows  of  the  soul  were  opened.  The  uni 
verse  was  an  open  book  before  her,  peace  held  her  in  its 
embrace  and  the  white-winged  angels  of  glorious  thought 
ascended  and  descended  before  her  eyes. 

But  these  moments  of  exaltation  were  but  temporary; 
pain  called  her  back,  and  then  it  was  that  no  touch  was 
like  Mary's,  no  soothing  word  like  the  murmured  tones  of 
her  whom  the  gentle  invalid  curiously  began  to  regard  as 
her  other  and  perfected  self! 

The  family  gradually  began  to  see  that  in  the  gentle 
and  unasserting  mother,  had  existed  almost  unknown  and 
unnoticed,  an  ambition  and  a  hope  of  social  success  and 
these  pleasant  surroundings  which  so  largely  make  up  a 
woman's  world,  which  had  continued  to  live  and  exert 
their  influence,  to  be  at  las't  rudely  dispelled  by  the  loss  of 
home  and,  in  her  eves,  all  possible  means  of  accomplishing 
the  secret  desire  of  her  heart. 

To  ( irafton  it  was  in  the  nature  of  a  revelation;  for 
himself  he  had  not  eared  for  wealth  or  the  refinement  of 
dress  or  fashion.  That  his  wife  had  in  her  weakness  be 
trayed  the  well-concealed  hopes  of  her  life  for  a  well- 
appointed  and  generous  household,  now  shattered  and 
destroyed  by  their  loss  of  their  home,  which  it  was  clear 
she  had  thought  might  afford  at  least  the  stepping-stone 
to  the  realization  of  her  hopes,  was  occasion  for  surprise 
and  self-reproach.  Had  he  done  all  he  could?  Might  he 
not  have  been  able  to  obtain  for  her,  what  it  now  seemed 
she  so  much  desired?  But  as  he  carefully  scanned  the 
record  of  the  past,  he  could  not  see  that  in  aught  he  had 
failed:  he  had  clone  what  he  could;  if  another  could  have 
done  more  it  would  be  another  who  should  be  judged,  and 
not  himself. 

For  the  most  of  the  year  which  was  now  past,  he  had 
continued  to  work  the  farm,  but  his  wife's  failing  health 
and  his  own  discouragement  had  prevented  his  being  very 


LOOKINC,    FORWARD.  133 

successful  in  its  conduct.  Towards  tin-  close  of  the  vear 
he  had  been  ahle  to  exchange  his  claim  upon  tin-  farm  for 
a  small  house  with  a  few  acres  of  land,  in  the  outskirts  of 
the  village  of  Plain ville;  and  after  selling  a  portion  of  Ins 
stock,  had  removed  his  family  to  the  new  home,  wheie 
Mary  liad  found  them  on  her  return  trom  her  second  year 
in  Topeka.  As  a  teacher  she  had  hern  eminently  -in 
fill,  and  during-  the  latter  half  of  the  year  had  heen  receiv 
ing  a  moderate  compensation  for  her  services.  At  the 
close  she  had  hrcn  given  a  handsome  present  hy  the  Mc- 
Farlands.  tlie  Institute  being  now  in  a  llourishing  condi 
tion;  and  had  received  an  urgent  request  to  return  at  au 
increased  salary  for  another  year.  And  this  had  heen  hei 
intention  previous  to  her  visit  liome.  Her  mother's 
condition,  however,  forhade;  she  could  not  leave  her:  nor 
did  she  desire  to  do  so.  The  education  which  she  had 
received  at  home  and  in  which  she  had  schooled  herself, 
included  her  own  advancement  only  as  a  means  to  an  end. 
She  desired  to  know,  and  to  lift  herself,  that  >he  might  be 
ahle  to  assist  in  some  way  in  the  great  work  of  life.  How 
this  was  to  he  accomplished  and  in  what  way  she  should 
he  ahle  to  serve,  she  had  felt  that  she  was  yet  too  voting  to 
determine.  The  lesson.  >o  seldom  learned,  that  happiness 
is  not  lira  sped  hy  self-seeking,  she  had  instinctively 
grasped.  She  had  not.  learned  it.  It  came  to  her  from  a 
child,  and  the  earliest  and  most  grateful  recollection  of 
her  youth  had  heen  that  of  denying  herself  for  the  dear 
mother  who  now  followed  with  wistful  eyes  her  every  step 
and  motion.  To  he  ahle  to  minister  to  her  comfort  was 
her  chief.'M  pleasure.  Of  duty  an  1  the  requirements  of 
natural  or  religious  law.  she  did  not  think.  Love  conquers 
all,  and  is  the  law  of  that  true  life  which  is  to  he! 

Since  it  hecame    plain   that  he   was   to   lose  his  home, 

I 

(I  raft  on  had  given  much  thought  to  the  cause  which  had 
involved  himself  and  neighbors  in  what  appeared  to  them 
an  almost  universal  ruin.  Many  were  losing  their  homes, 
and  all  were  finding  their  means  of  subsistence  gradually 


134  LOOKING   FORWARD. 

slipping  away  from  tlu-ir  control.  His  previous  reading 
had  enabled  him  to  mentally  grasp  the  principles  and 
causes  which  he  saw  in  operation  around  him,  and  he  be 
gan  an  inquiry  which,  when  he  had  reached  a  conclusion, 
ended  only  in  a  resolve  to  do  what  he  could  to  make 
known  certain  evils  and  their  causes,  as  the  best  and  only 
means  within  his  reach  toward  remedying  the  conditions 
which  he  felt  sure  were  destroying  the  happiness  of  the 
great  middle  class,  to  which  he  belonged. 

Among  other  means  of  information,  he  sought  the 
opinion  of  those  in  authority,  as  to  the  causes  and  means 
to  be  employed  in  remedying  the;  evils  which  all  fair- 
minded  men  began  to  acknowledge  as  existing.  With 
Senator  Plumb  he  had  a  very  slight  acquaintance,  but  as 
he  was  a  public  servant,  he  felt  that  duty  required  him  to 
answer  questions  of  great  public  moment,  when  called 
upon  for  his  opinion.  Accordingly  he  wrote  the  senator^ 
asking  him  for  his  opinion  as  to  the  course  which  the 
farmers  and  people  of  Kansas  should  pursue.  He  received 
the  following  letter:* 

UNITED  STATES  SENATE,  WASHINGTON,  D.  C. 
GEORGE  GRAFTON,  Esq.,  Plainville  Kansas. 

Dear  Sir: — J  have  before  me  your  favor  of  the  — . 
********* 

While  I  have  given  very  much  thought  to  the  question 
you  suggest,  I  can  not  go  into  it  very  deeply  in  the  space 
of  an  ordinary  letter,  and  in  fact  I  would  not  undertake, 
even  if  I  had  ample  time,  to  formulate  a  remedy  for  the 
present  condition  of  things.  No  remedy  can  be  devised 
which  will  bring  relief  to  everybody.  At  the  very  best,  a, 
considerable  number  of  those  who  are  heavily  mortgaged 
must  succumb.  It  is  difficult  to  apportion  the  responsi 
bility  for  the  trouble.  The  contraction  of  the  currency, 
which  has  been  going  on  for  the  last  three  or  four  years 
especially,  is  responsible  for  part  of  it.  This  has  had  to 
do  with  the  decline  in  values  of  farm  products,  notably,  in 
cattle;  but  the  farmers  themselves  have  powerfully  con- 

*  The  original  letter,  written  by  the  late  Senator  Plumb,  is  in  tke  author's 
possession. 


LOOKING   FORWARD.  135 

tributed  to  the  decline  in  the  prices  of  farm  products  by 
their  plan  of  raising  only  those  things  which  were  designed 
for  a  market  away  from  home,  and  by  the  reliance  upon 
outside  sources  for  the  things  which  they  could  have  pro 
duced,  and  many  of  which  they  did  produce,  at  home. 

Very  few  Kansas  farmers  raise  their  own  bread,  still 
fewer  provide  themselves  with  meat  or  fruit,  while  the 
seeds,  the  soap  and  a  great  number  of  minor  things,  which, 
twenty-five  years  ago,  were  all  produced  at  home,  are  now 
universally  supplied  from  outside.  The  result  is  that  the 
farmer  not  only  is  wholly  dependent  on  outside  markets 
for  what  he  sells  and  also  for  what  he  buys,  but  he  pays 
for  the  outward  and  inward  transportation  of  articles 
which  he  ought  to  produce  at  home  and  on  which  he  now 
pays  a  tax  to  the  railroads  and  the  middle-men,  which 
greatly  diminishes  his  own  profits  and,  in  most  cases,  in 
fact,  eats  into  his  own  capital.  The  effect  upon  the  price 
of  what  he  raises  is  still  worse  because,  as  he  insists  on 
selling  everything  at  Kansas  City,  Chicago  and  other 
distant  markets,  he  puts  the  question  of  price  more  fully 
under  the  control  of  those  who  purchase  at  those  points. 
To  all  these  things  have  been  added  high  taxes,  some 
extravagance  in  living,  and  in  fact  a  general  departure 
from  those  minor  economies  which  have  been  the  charac 
teristic  and  the  necessity,  in  fact,  of  the  business  of  farm 
ing.  It  is  impossible  to  go  into  this  matter  in  detail  with 
the  time  at  hand,  but  you  will  readily  see  the  objective  of 
my  statement.  As  I  have  before  stated,  no  remedy  can 
produce  immediate  effect.  There  miist  be,  I  think,  a 
complete  reversal  of  the  practices  of  which  I  have  spoken. 
There  must  be  a  greater  diversification  of  industry  upon 
the  farm.  It  is  not  going  to  be  possible  much  longer  to 
ship  grain  to  Liverpool,  or  to  any  point  outside  the  lulled 
States.  The  further  it  is  shipped,  the  greater  tax  the 
farmer  pays  for  his  transportation,  but  there  is  still  a 
more  conclusive  reason  why  the  foreign  market  cannot  he 
the  reliance  of  the  Kansas  farmer.  The  wheat  of  India  is 
already  crowding  us  out  of  the  Liverpool  market.  Large 
areas  of  virgin  soil  have  been  brought  under  cultivation 
in  Africa  and  elsewhere,  the  product  of  which  will  come 
in  competition  with  the  wheat,  corn  and  pork  of  the  Uni 
ted  States,  and  I  am  quite  sure  that  within  five  years  India 
wheat  will  be  selling  in  New  York.  The  farmer,  therefore 


136  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

must  raise  those  things  which  lie  can  sell  at  home, — the 
butter,  eggs,  cheese,  fruit,  vegetables,  and  so  on,  and  above 
all  things,  he  must  live  as  nearly  within  himself  as  pos 
sible; — that  is  to  say,  off  of  the  productions  of  his  own  soil, 
and  thereby  keep  as  nearly  as  possible  out  of  that  line  of 
production  which  compels  him  to  submit  to  the  exactions  of 
railroads  and  middle-men,  and  makes  him  depend  upon  the 
varying  fortunes  of  speculation  for  market  and  for  prices. 
I  have  written  the  foregoing  somewhat  hastily  and  no 
doubt  crudely,  but  I  hope  there  is  enough  in  it  to  put  you 
on  inquiry  if  you  have  not  already  given  the  subject 
thought,  and  I  shall  be  glad  to  hear  what  you  have  to  say 
•n  reply.  I  am,  very  truly  yours,  P.  B.  PLUMB. 

Grafton  received  the  senator's  letter  with  another,  at 
Plainville,  and  took  them  from  the  office  just  as  he  had 
vainly  endeavored  to  sell  a  few  bushels  of  potatoes  which  he 
had  taken  to  the  stores  for  sale.  He  had  taken  only  five 
bushels  of  extra  fine  ones,  and  a  few  pounds  of  butter,  with 
quite  a  large  basket  of  eggs. 

Mr.  Baker  would  take  the  eggs ;  he  could  ship  them  to 
Kansas  City — if  Grafton  would  take  goods  from  his  shelves 
in  payment — at  eight  cents  per  dozen.  He  really  did  not 
care  for  them  and  only  took  them  as  an  accommodation  to 
his  customers.  His  only  profit  was  in  the  goods  for  which 
the}*  were  to  be  exchanged.  Butter  he  could  not  ship  at 
any  jDrice,  as  most  of  the  villagers  made  their  own  ;  he  did 
buy  a  little  at  from  five  to  eight  cents,  but  at  present  he  was 
overstocked  and  would  be  glad  to  take  four  cents  per  pound 
from  any  one  who  would  take  all  he  had.  Busteed,  who 
happened  into  the  store,  bought  a  bushel  of  the  potatoes, 
paying  twenty-five  cents  for  them,  saying  that,  although  he 
had  plenty  in  his  garden  he  would  rather  buy  a  bushel  than 
to  dig  them  himself  or  hunt  up  any  one  else  to  do  it  for  him. 

Four  bushels  of  potatoes  remained  in  the  wagon  ;  ex 
changing  the  eggs  for  groceries  which  Grafton  thought 
might  be  useful  and  taking  the  butter  for  which  there  was 
no  sale,  he  slowly  drove  back  to  his  home.  Putting  his 
horses  in  the  stable  he  sat  down  to  read  the  senator's  letter. 
That  he  was  disgusted,  our  readers  will  readily  believe. 


LOOKING    FORWARD.  137 

Having  read  it  once  through,  he  again  read  it,  this 
time  carefully  and  critically. 

"At  the  very  best  a  very  considerable  number  must 
succumb !  " 

Yes,  most  farmers  would. 

"  Farmers  had  contributed  to  the  result  by  raising  only 
those  things  designed  for  markets  away  from  home/' 

But  what  could  they  sell  at  home  ? 

11  Very  few  Kansas  farmers  raise  their  own  bread,  meat 
and  fruit." 

What  did  the  senator  mean  ?     Most  raised  all. 

'  The  farmer  insists  on  selling  ever}'  thing  at  Kansas 
City,  Chicago  and  other  distant  markets." 

But  where  else  could  he  sell  the  beef,  pork  and  grain, 
which  was  all  he  could  sell  at  all  ? 

No  remedy  but  to  cease  producing  the  only  things 
which  could  be  sold,  cease  patronizing  railroads,  and  "live 
within  himself?  >J 

Opening  the  other  letter,  it  proved  to  be  from  the  editor 
of  a  widely-circulated  journal  whose  writings  he  had  often 
admired.  It  was  as  follows  : 

CHICAGO,  Iu..,  - 
MR.  GRAFT-ON. 

My  /)<'(ir  Sir: — I  thank  you  for  the  kindly  and  frater 
nal  tone  of  your  letter  and  I  am  pleased  to  be  brought  in 
personal  relations  with  one  so  entirely  in  earnest  as  yourself. 

I  believe  with  you  that  the  farmers  are  destined  to  boss 
things  ultimately  ;  but  before  that  happy  time  arrives  we 
must  turn  a  lot  of  mountains  upside  down.  I  never  appre 
ciated  the  magnitude  of  the  task  that  confronts  us  as  fully 
as  I  do  to-day.  The  monopoly  foe  has  as  yet  only  wiggled 
its  little  finger,  comparatively  speaking.  It  has  not  begun 
to  show  forth  its  tremendous  resources,  for  there  has  been 
no  call  for  them.  It  is  on  top,  and  has  the  people  by  the 
neck.  Just  wait  until  demos  begins  to  get  turbulent  and 
you  will  see  monopoly's  mailed  hand  come  forth.  We  fel 
lows  wrho  are  on  the  watch-towers  and  see  these  things  can, 
however,  by  no  means  seek  a  quiet  place  and  wait  for  the 


138  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

Storm  to  roll  by.  Our  capacity  to  apprehend  the  work  and 
peril  only  truly  comes  to  us  when  we  are  enlisted  for  the 
war,  and  could  not  escape  our  duty,  if  we  would.  We  can 
see  all  the  toil  and  danger  that  is  before,  but  our  mission 
has  possessed  us,  and  even  the  thought  of  shirking  becomes 
impossible.  We  must  march  right  along  at  the  head  of  the 
column  until  we  keel  over  for  good,  and  our  persistence  in 
doing  will  be  the  same,  whether  we  close  our  eyes  in  victory 
or  defeat,  and  know  our  fate  before-hand.  Yours  very  truly, 

LF.STKK  C.  H 


o 
Q 


LOOK  INC,     FORWARD. 


141 


CHAPTER     XIV. 

MKKKTY     l''(>i:    THK    T<>!  I.KIv'S. 

S  (irafton  finished  reading  Hubbard's 
letter  it  dropped  from  his  hand. 
What  a  radical  difference,  thought 
he,  is  there  in  men  !  With  the  sen 
ator,  common  men  were  mere  pawn^ 
upon  the  chess-board  of  life,  to  lo 
used  and  then  forgotten.  They 
could  "  succumb/' — what  ever  that 
might  mean.  What  did  he  intend 
it  to  mean  ?  Why,  simply,  that 
they  might  drop  out  of  sight  as 
mere  inconvenient  and  disagreeable 
reminders  of  practices,  customs  and 
laws  which  he  knew  to  be  wrong,  but  which  he  had  no 
stomach  to  oppose.  Absorbed  in  his  ambitious  schemes,  he 
had  no  time  to  waste  upon  former  friends  who  had  become 
mere  under-dogs  in  the  fight  of  life.  UA  very  considerable 
number  must  succumb."  But  Hubbard's  letter  was  a  breezy 
call  to  the  conflict.  The  good  fight  must  be  fought !  Giant 
wrong  must  be  opposed !  Men  would  assert  themselves ; 
cowards  might  succumb,  if  they  would  !  As  for  himself,  he 
knew  which  side  he  would  take  ;  whether  wrinning  or  losing, 
he  would  do  what  he  could  ! 

But  the  next  instant  his  thought  reverted  to  his  own 
condition  and  to  that  of  his  family.  How  hopeless  it  was ! 
The  wife  of  his  youth  in  a  decline,  with  no  prospect  of 
improvement.  His  children  deprived  of  those  opportunities 
which  he  had  always  intended  should  be  theirs.  Poverty, 
disease  and  probable  death  at  his  door,  and  he  as  helpless 
as  an  infant  in  the  presence  of  these  enemies.  For  the 
moment  desperation  seized  him  !  Thoughts  of  suicide 
crossed  his  mind!  No,  that  would  not  do.  That  would 
simply  be  an  abandonment  of  his  family  to  their  fate  and  a 
desertion  of  his  post.  Fate  had  placed  him  where  he  was. 


142  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

He  had  always  endeavored,  in  the  changes  of  life,  to  do 
what  seemed  at  the  time  for  the  best.  And  this  was  the 
result  ! 

Half  crazed,  the  man  staggered  to  his  feet ;  scarcely 
knowing  what  he  did,  he  walked  aimlessly  down  the  street, 
a  tumult  of  emotions  raging  within  him.  He  had  gone  but 
a  little  way  when,  raising  his  eyes,  he  saw  Mr.  Kllery 
approaching ;  he  would  have  avoided  him  if  it  had  been 
possible,  without  seeming  rudeness,  to  do  it.  The  next  in 
stant  they  met. 

"  You  look  troubled,  friend  Grafton,"  said  the  preacher. 

"  Well,  I  am  troubled,  and  so  it's  quite  likely  that  I 
show  it." 

"  I  dislike  very  much  to  enquire  into  the  cause  of  your 
trouble,  Mr.  Grafton.  but  can  I  assist  you  in  any  way?  " 

"  Oh,  I  presume  not ;  my  trouble  is  too  deep  for  imme 
diate  help  from  any  source.  My  wife  is  seriously  ill,  and, 
in  the  presence  of  increasing  poverty,  my  complete  helpless 
ness  almost  maddens  me,"  said  Grafton,  as  he  looked  despe 
rately  away  and  across  the  fields. 

Mr.  Ellery  scarcely  knew  what  to  reply ;  he  appeared 
sympathetically  troubled,  but  for  the  moment  made  no 
answer,  and  Grafton  continued  :  "  The  worst  of  it  is,  I  can 
trace  not  only  my  own  financial  condition,  but  that  of  most 
of  our  farmers  to  the  doings  of  men  and  operation  of  laws 
which  it  is  possible  to  change, — which  ought  to  be  changed ! 
I  see  the  deviltry  of  man  so  plainly  in  all  this,  that  it  raises 
my  ire." 

"  But  do  you  think  you  can  change  the  conditions 
which  surround  you?"  asked  the  preacher. 

"  Personally,  I  am  powerless,  but  if  I  can  induce  others 
to  act  with  me,  something  may  be  done.  In  short,  I  believe 
that  the  farmers  of  this  state  can  help  themselves  ;  and  self- 
help  is  the  only  help  which  is  of  value." 

"Let  us  sit  down,"  said  Mr.  Ellery;  "I  have  no  par 
ticular  business  on  hand  just  now  and  possibly  we  may  both 
gain  something  by  talking  these  things  over ;"  and,  stepping 


LOOKING    FORWARD.  143 

one  side  to  a  convenient  place,  he  sat  down,  and  Grafton  was 
practically  forced  to  do  the  same. 

44 1  understand,''  said  the  preacher,  "that  most  of  the 
fanners  have  joined  the  Alliance  and  that  you  are  a  promi 
nent  member.  I  don't  believe  I  understand  just  what  the}' 
intend  to  do.  I  can  see  that  conditions  are  not  favorable  to 
the  farmers,  but  just  how  to  remedy  the  trouble  is  not  clear 
to  my  mind,''  and  he  turned  enquiringly  toward  the  farmer. 

u  Well,"  said  Grafton,  "  it  is  plain  that  debt  and  the 
payment  of  interest,  both  public  and  private,  is  at  the  bottom 
of  all  the  trouble.  From  my  reading  of  history  I  can  see 
that  this  has  always  been  the  cause  of  the  downfall  of  na 
tions  and  peoples,  and  has  universally  resulted  in  the 
poverty  and  misery  of  the  producing  classes,  and  until 
something  is  now  done  to  change  the  causes  in  operation, 
the  effects  will  continue.  The  amount  paid  as  interest  on 
money  in  this  state  is  far  in  excess  of  the  value  of  all  the 
people  have  to  sell,  after  the  expenses  of  living  are  deducted. 
The  excess  is  great ;  in  fact  there  is  really  no  surplus  if  the 
people  are  decently  cared  for  and  the  children  educated, 
while  the  payments  of  interest  run  high  up  into  the  millions. 
So  you  see  the  subtance  of  the  people  is  being  absorbed  and 
the  average  farmer  is  constantly  encroaching  upon  his  cap 
ital.  The  end  is  sure,  although  it  may  be  somewhat  delayed. 
Even  in  the  case  of  the  railroads,  of  which  many  of  our 
farmers  grievously  complain,  any  one  who  will  examine 
into  the  matter  can  easily  see  that  it  is  the  heavy  interest 
charge  on  bonds  and  watered  stock  that  prevents  the  reduc 
tion  of  fares  and  freights.  Then,  too,  the  interest  to  be 
obtained  on  bonds  and  watered  stock  is  the  reason  for  the 
creation  for  this  class  of  investments.  Usury  is  at  the 
bottom  of  it  all.  You  know  what  the  Bible  has  to  say  of 
that,  and  that  the  result  must  be  ruinous." 

"  But  do  you  really  think  that  the  taking  of  interest  on 
money  is  to  blame  for  the  present  condition  of  the  farmers?" 
said  Mr.  Ellery. 


144  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

"  Why,  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  its  being  one  of  the 
greatest  canses,"  said  Grafton  ;  "just  go  back  to  the  fifth 
chapter  of  Nehemiah,  and  the  first  thirteen  verses  of  that 
chapter  give  us  a  perfect  picture  of  the  doings  of  the  present. 
The  loaning  of  money  upon  usury — and  you  will  note  that 
one  per  cent.,  or  the  hundredth  part,  was  usury  then — the 
taking  of  mortgages,  foreclosures,  evictions,  and  the  misery 
of  the  people  is  pictured  as  plainly  as  the  difference  in  forms 
of  language  used  will  allow.  The  prophet  cursed  it  then, 
and  if  we  had  a  decent  prophet,  he  would  curse  it  now." 

Mr.  Ellery  moved  rather  uneasily  in  his  seat,  but  said 
nothing,  and  Grafton  went  on  : 

"  Now  let  me  show  you  how  it  is  with  the  farmers,  not 
only  in  this  state,  but  throughout  the  Union  : 

"A  friend  of  mine,  an  old  Kansan,  but  born  and  reared 
in  the  Keystone  State,  visited  the  home  of  his  boyhood,  in 
Pennsylvania,  last  summer.  Meeting  a  former  play-mate, 
now  a  wealty  man  and  proprietor  of  half  the  little  town,  he 
said  to  him  : 

"  '  You  are  in  the  banking  and  loaning  business,  you 
tell  me  ;  what  rates  do  you  obtain  for  money  here  ?  ' 

"'Well,'  said  the  capitalist,  'we  loan  money  at  low 
rates  ;  I  have  known  of  much  money  being  loaned  at  four 
per  cent. — fact  is,  I  have  loaned  at  that,  myself,  when  every 
thing  was  all  right.' 

"  '  But,'  said  the  Kansan,  'why  don't  you  come  out  to 
Kansas,  where  you  could  get  two  or  three  times  as  much 
interest  ?  Our  farmers  in  -  -  county  pay  a  nominal  rate 
of  eight  to  ten  per  cent.,  but  when  commissions  and  prem 
iums  are  all  footed  up,  it  is  often  from  twelve  to  sixteen  that 
they  really  pay.' 

"  Relating  this  to  me,  the  Kansan  said  :  k  My  friend 
would  make  no  answer,  but  instead  said,  '  take  a  ride  with 
me  this  afternoon,  I  want  to  show  you  my  new  fast  stepper 
and  we  will  take  a  spin  out  among  the  farms.' 


LOOK  INC,     FORWARD.  145 

"  Iii  due  time  my  old  school-mate  drove  up  to  the  house 
where  I  was  stopping,  in  a  splendid  'rig'  with  a  horse 
which  even  Bonner  might  admire.  Seating  myself  beside 
him,  we  were  soon  among  the  highly-cultivated  fields  of 
-  county.  Driving  along  the  '  ridge  '  road,  he  stopped 
for  a  moment  that  we  might  admire  the  scenery.  Spread 
out  in  the  sunlight,  below  and  upon  our  right  was  a  glorious 
sight,  an  'intervale'  farm,  in  the  highest  state  of  cultivation. 
Clean-kept  fields,  divided  by  straight  lines  of  well-built 
stone  walls,  some  of  them  being  whitewashed,  that,  by  the 
contrast  of  green  fields  and  white  fences,  the  beauty  of  the 
scene  might  be  enhanced.  Blooded  cattle  of  beautiful  pro 
portions  cropped  the  rich  grass  in  one  of  the  enclosures. 
A  well-built  mansion,  embowered  in  trees  and  shrubbery, 
was  upon  one  side  and  near  by,  the  'bank  barn',  built  of 
stone  in  the  most  substantial  manner,  added  its  solidity  and 
air  of  stability  and  prosperity  to  the  view. 

u<  There!'  said  my  school-mate,  'ain't  that  a  pretty 
sight ;  can  you  beat  that  in  Kansas  ?  ' 

"  I  was  obliged  to  confess  that  we  could  not.  But,  said 
I,  who  owns  this  farm  ? 

"  'This  morning,'  said  he,  '  I  did  not  answer  your  ques 
tion,  and  I  have  brought  you  out  here  to  emphasize  what  I 

say.  You  remember  Jim  -  — ,  son  of  old  -  , 

the  big  farmer  of  by-gone  years  ?  " 

"  I  nodded,  and  he  went  on  :  l  Well,  Jim  married 
Nancy  -  — ,  a  fine,  buxom  girl,  and  his  father  gave  him 
this  farm  as  his  patrimony  and  started  him  out  in  life. 
They  seemed  to  be  as  happy  as  larks  for  a  time  ;  finally 
Nancy  fell  sick,  and  there  was  a  year  or  two  of  poor  crops. 
Jim  '  got  behind,1  and  came  to  me  for  a  loan,  and,  to  make  a 
long  story  short,  I  let  him  have  $1,000,  twenty-three  years 
ago,  at  four  per  cent.  This  amount  was  afterwards  added 
to  at  the  same  rate  and,  to  cut  the  story  short,  I  '11  just  tell 
you  that  now,  after  twenty-three  years  of  a  struggle,  Jim 
and  Nancy  are  out  in  Chatauqua  county,  Kansas,  with  a 
houseful  of  children,  trying  to  make  a  new  start.  I  own 


146  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

the  farm  ;  Jim  just  left  it — abandoned  it — I  did  not  foreclose 
on  him — but  he  just  couldn't  pay,  and  had  to  go/ 

"  '  Now,  you  see  the  reason  why  I  don't  care  to  go  to 
Kansas  to  loan  money  at  higher  rates,  I  can  get  the  land  at 
four  per  cent.,  but  I  don't  want  it,  it  won't  pay  the  cost  of 
the  farmer's  living  in  any  decent  fashion  and  four  per  cent, 
beside,  and  there  are  no  better  farms  in  America  than  these. 
I  own  more  of  them — I  wish  I  did  n't — and  so  I  surely  don't 
want  Kansas  mortgages.  It  is  a  dead  sure  thing  at  the 
rates  you  mention,  but  I  have  my  notions  and  don't  care  to 
invest.' 

"  Now  you  see  how  it  is  with  us  :  it  is  impossible  for 
the  average  farmer  to  succeed  in  business  who  desires  to 
obtain  the  advantages  and  refinements  of  life  in  the  Nine 
teenth  century  for  his  family.  Now,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
there  never  has  been  any  profit,  taking  a  series  of  years 
together,  in  the  business  of  Western  farming,  except  in  the 
rise  in  value  of  land,  but  that  has  now  reached  its  limit. 
So,  Senator  Plumb  is  right  as  to  the  fact,  shameful  though 
it  is.  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  I  have  just  received  a  letter 
from  Senator  Plumb,  in  which  he  says  that  large  numbers 
of  farmers  must  succumb  under  present  conditions.'' 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Ellery^  "if  he  is  right  and  there  is 
no  hope,  why  do  you  continue  the  struggle?  '' 

"  Suppose  I  give  it  up,  what  then?  And  what  of  others? 
What  of  my  children  ?  What  of  the  community  ?  Con 
sidering  these  things,  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  resist. 
Just  think  of  it !  Busteed  told  me  the  other  day,  substan 
tially,  that  I  lived  too  extravagantly,  that  my  daughter, 
whom  I  have  hoped  to  educate,  should  '  work  out ' — that  is, 
become  a  servant  to  some  one  like  himself,  probably.  Of 
course  she  must  work,  as  she  always  has ;  but  that  my 
child  should  become  the  servant  of  a  class  of  people  who  are 
unscrupulous  enough  to  seize  upon  the  little  earnings  of 
the  poor,  is  enough  to  raise  the  devil  in  me.  Just  think  of 
it :  we,  that  is,  '  the  lower  classes,'  are  to  study  '  economy,' 
we  are  to  live  011  what  we  can  not  sell,  and  spend  our  lives. 


LOOKING    FORWARD.  147 

groveling  for  dollars.  Too  many  of  us  ape  the  rich,  we  are 
told;  we  are  too  finely  attired ;  a  piano  or  an  organ  is  found 
in  too  many  of  our  homes.  We  should  wear  homespun  ; 
our  hard-worked  wives  and  mothers  should  have  yet  other 
burdens  added  to  their  labors.  Music  and  the  refinements  of 
society  are  not  for  us.  The  Nineteenth  century  is  not  for 
us,  we  are  to  live  in  the  Eighteenth  ;  our  daughters  are  to 
be  brought  up  to  household  service — the  service  of  the  rich. 
The  rich  have  absorbed  the  wealth  created  by  us,  and  now 
we  are  to  fall  down  and  worship  them !  I  tell  you,  Mr. 
Ellery,  I  '11  never  do  it !  Never  !!  Never  !!!  " 

During  the  delivery  of  this,  Grafton  had  become  some 
what  excited,  and  Mr.  Ellery  hardly  knew  what  answer  to 
make,  if  any.  He  finally  managed  to  ask  : 

"  But,  Mr.  Grafton,  what  can  be  done?  '' 

"  When  ever  our  people  become  thoroughly  aroused 
and  are  ready  to  help  themselves,  help  can  be  obtained. 
We  can  get  it  from  the  only  place  it  can  possibly  come 
from — ourselves.  Most  of  our  people  have  been  looking  to 
the  general  government  for  relief.  Well,  now,  no  help  will 
ever  come  from  that  source  until  we  do  something  for  our 
selves  here  in  our  own  state;  and  we  can  do  much.  The 
power  of  corrupt  politicians  and  corrupt  voters  in  the  great 
cities  can  be,  and  will  be,  used  against  us  to  such  an  extent 
that  our  success  in  obtaining  possession  of  the  general 
government  is,  at  the  very  best,  a  long  way  off.  In  the 
Western  states  we  can  rule,  when  ever  we  get  together ;  and 
finally,  after  much  wrangling,  we  are  going  to  do  that. 
Then,  we  can  help  ourselves  by  the  passage  of  State  laws. 
We  can  stop  the  machine  that  is  dragging  us  to  death. 
If  we  are  successful  in  this  State,  other  states  will  follow 
our  example,  and  then  Congress  and  the  President  will  hear 
us;  then  they  will  be  willing  to  listen  to  our  complaint; 
now,  our  enemies  have  their  ears,  and  in  fact  control  them. 
So  long  as  we  are  willing  to  allow  them  to  fleece  us,  they 
will,  in  one  way  or  another,  keep  that  control  of  the  general 


148  LOOKING    VORWARI). 

government  which  enables  them,  under  our  present  laws,  to 
continue  their  trade  of  blood-sucking.'1 

"  You  speak  very  strongly  of  these  matters  ;  I  suppose, 
though,  you  have  studied  the  subject  and  given  it  more 
thought  than  I  have,"  said  Mr.  Ellery. 

"  I  have  given  it  a  good  deal  of  thought,  and  yet  I  have 
no  new  plan,  no  patent  scheme  for  saving  the  country;  my 
only  plan  is  simply  this  :  A  return  to  the  juster  laws  and 
purer  practices  of  our  fathers.  When  I  was  a  boy  in  Ohio, 
my  father  lived  on  a  farm  in  what  was  then  considered  a  new 
country.  People  were  poor  all  about  us,  it  is  true,  but  they 
all  had  their  homes, — there  were  then  no  mortgaged  farms, 
debts  were  comparatively  few,  and  people  lived  without  that 
terrible  load  of  care  and  anxiety  which  comes  from  debt  and 
the  payment  of  interest  money.  And  people  were  not  only 
comparatively  happy,  but  they  were  in  the  line  of  mental 
advancement ;  in  fact,  those  early  days  were  prolific  in  the 
production  of  men  of  resource  and  character.  These  were 
precisely  the  surroundings  which  produced  such  men  as 
Washington,  Jackson,  William  Henry  Harrison,  Clay, 
Douglas,  Lincoln,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  band  of  patriots 
who  made  America  what  it  was  up  to  the  time  when  our 
late  War  \vas  made  the  excuse  for  loading  every  thing  and 
every  body  with  debt.  As  soon  as  our  people  became  bur 
dened  with  that,  the  energies  of  the  common  people — from 
whom  our  saviours  have  come  in  the  past,  and  from  whom 
they  are  to  come  in  the  future — have  been  directed  to  this 
miserable  weight  and  clog  of  debt.  Now  it  is  impossible  to 
produce  men;  the  people  are  engaged  in  producing  dollars. 
Debt  makes  slaves  and  cowards  ; — always  has  and  always 
will.  Not  only  is  the  material  improvement  of  our  people 
put  a  stop  to,  but  mentally  they  must  be  debased  if  present 
laws  and  customs  are  to  continue." 

"  Well,  but  Mr.  Grafton,  does  not  what  is  called  the 
'land  question'  cut  quite  a  figure  here?  In  the  days  you 
speak  of  land  was  comparatively  free  ;  does  not  this  tell  the 
story  ?  "  said  Mr.  Ellery. 


LOOK  i\<;  KORW  \RI>.  149 

"Of  course  that  has  much  to  do  with  the  matter,  there 
can  be  no  doubl  of  that:  hut  men  lose  their  homes  almoflt 

entirely  through  the  operation  of  monetary  laws  and  cus 
tom-.  Mr.  Kllery.  <  io  hack  to  the  fifth  chapter  of  NYhe- 
iniah  and  you  will  see  that  loan,  mortgage  and  usury  came 
first,  then,  the  loss  of  the  land  and  home.  It  has  always 
heen  so.  in  every  age.  No  people,  no  nation,  ever  lost  its 
homes  in  any  other  way.  peaceably.  And  next  to  the 
family,  a  home  belonging  to  the  family  is  the  most  im 
portant  thin^  in  the  creation  of  strong,  intelligent,  re 
sourceful  men  and  women,  in  all  the  world.  Now,  if  we 
can  get  rid  of  debt  in  the  future  and  make  it  possihle  for 
families  to  own  homes  which  can  not  he  taken  from  them, 
unless  they  wish  to  sell  them  outright,  \ve  shall  come  hack 
to  the  conditions  which  surrounded  the  people  in  the 
earlier  and  better  days  of  the  American  repuhlic  '' 

"That  sounds  very  well.  Mr.  (Jrafton.  hut  do  vou 
think  it  possible  ?  " 

'•Certainly  it  is  possible:  any  tiling  is  possible  to 
men  who  are  willing  to  do  and  dare.  In  this  case  we  shall 
only  be  required  to  take  away  by  law  certain  special  privi 
leges  enjoyed  by  the  dealers  in  money,  and  the  tiling  is 
done.  That's  all.  The  power  of  State  law  is  sufficient  to 
do  that,  and  if  we  have  in  our  State  government  a  set  of 
men  possessing  half  the  spirit  which  animated  the  Conti 
nental  Congress,  it  would  be  done,  and  quickly,  too.  Hut 
if  we  have  not  this  spirit,  if  we  are  too  fearful  and  cow- 
ardlv.  then  the  people  now  controlling  our  government  are 
right  in  their  treatment  of  us.  for  we  are  despicable  crea 
tures  and  less  than  men,  fit  only  for  that  slavery  which 
waits  for  us  not  far  in  the  future." 

"Hut,  Mr.  C.rafton.  you  speak  of  Staie  laws, — what 
laws  would  you  have  ?  '' 

"  \Yell,  the  first  thing  necessary  would  be  a  stay  law, 
putting  a  stop,  say  for  two  years,  to  the  foreclosure  of  real 
estate  mortgages  and  the  payment  of  interest  upon  them  " 

"  Would  that  be  just?" 


150  LOOKING     FORWARD. 

•'Certainly;  the  security  would  remain;  the  debt 
would  not  be  repudiated.  It  would  simply  give  the  holder 
time  to  make  the  best  use  of  property  in  his  hands.'' 

"  But  wouldn't  the  courts  hold  that  this  would  be 
unconstitutional,  as  interfering  with  contracts?'' 

"  Courts  hold  their  sessions  in  pursuance  of  and  under 
the  direction  of  law.  Otherwise  they  have  no  force.  Let 
the  Legislature  pass  laws  directing  the  methods  of  fore 
closure  1o  be  practiced  in  the  courts.  A  practical  and 
constitutional  stay  can,  in  this  way,  be  secured,  which  will 
afford  relief.  But,  anyhow,  the  public  good  is  the  supreme 
law,  or  should  be.  Laws  should  be  made  to  protect  the 
majority  of  the  people,  not  to  allow  a  few  to  rob  them. 
No  doubt  our  State  government  of  the  future  will  have 
occasion  for  resolution,  courage  and  "sand,''  but  with  the 
right  kind  of  men  in  the  Legislature  all  we  need  can  be 
obtained.'' 

"Well,  what  next?'' 

"  Then  abolish  all  laws  for  the  collection  of  voluntary 
debts  to  be  incurred  in  the  future.  If  possible,  put  this 
in  the  State  constitution,  then  it  will  be  out  of  the  reach 
of  the  courts.  That  is  the  proper  place  for  it;  properly,  a 
constitution  is  simply  a  bill  of  rights.  If  there  are  no 
laws  for  the  collection  of  voluntary  debts,  debt-making 
will  not  be  encouraged  and  the  debt-makers  will  soon  dis 
cover  that  more  money  must  be  put  in  circulation,  so  that 
all  deals  can  be  settled  at  the  time  by  the  payment  of  cash. 
That  will  convert  them, — nothing  else  ever  will.  This 
legislation  will  do  away  with  seven-eighths  of  our  court 
expenses  and  three-quarters  of  our  lawyers.  No  doubt,  the 
lawyers  would  fight  any  thing  tending  to  relieve  the  people 
from  the  burdens  which  they  impose  and  the  privileges 
they  assert. 

"  The  third  step  would  be  one  which  will  allow  the 
people  to  get  away  from  the  control  of  the  money-loaners. 
Liberty  is  what  we  are  after.  All  our  measures  look  to  the 
abolition  of  special  privilege;  special  privilege  of  the  fund 


LOOKING   FORWARD. 

holder;  special  privilege  of  the  creditor;  special  privileges 
of  the  lawyers;  special  privileges  of  the  money-managers. 
Abolish  these  and  make  every  family  secure  in  its  home, 
and  Society  will  he  rejuvenated,  reformed,  Christianized, 
saved!  Then  we  will  have  the  conditions  prevailing  in 
this  country  in  its  infancy,  when  men  were  free.  At  the 
present  time  we  have  in  this  State  probably  a  thousand 
different  kinds  of  warrants.  The  State  issues  them,  so  do 
the  counties,  the  municipalities  and  the  school-districts; 
and  each  of  these  issues  them  upon  different  funds.  All 
bear  interest,  and  most  of  them  are  at  a  discount.  The 
people  lose  the  discount  and  pay  the  interest,  and  the 
money-shavers  gain  both  and  lock  up  the  warra  nts,  which 
might  serve  as  a  medium  of  exchange.  Now,  suppose  that 
in  lieu  of  all  these  different  kinds  of  warrants  the  State 
issues  only  one  kind,  made  receivable  for  taxes  anywhere 
in  the  State,  bearing  no  interest,  and  engraved  in  the  high 
est  style  of  the  art,  in  sums  of  25  cents,  50  cents,  $1,  $2, 
$5  and  $10.  These  warrants  to  be  issued  by  the  State 
Treasurer  to  each  county,  municipality  and  district,  in 
amount  equal  to  its  tax-levy,  properly  certified  to  him. 
The  State  Auditor's  office  to  be  made  a  clearing-house  foi 
the  settlement  of  balances  between  said  counties,  munici 
palities  and  districts.  Under  these  circumstances,  war 
rants  hearing  no  intei'est  and  made  receivable  for  taxes 
anywhere  in  the  State,  would  circulate  anywhere  in  the 
State  at  par,  as  they  did  in  our  Colonial  days.  Then,  pub 
lic  improvements,  for  which  the  State  is  suffering,  can  be 
constructed,  paid  for  in  warrants,  and  every  idle  man  in 
the  State  set  at  work.  It  can  be  easily  shown  that  such 
warrants  have,  in  the  past,  and  will,  in  the  future,  circu 
late  freely,  and  at  par.  In  that  event  it  will  be  easy  to 
obtain  what  legal-tender  money  we  may  need  for  the  pay 
ment  of  interest,  everybody  will  be  employed  and  real 
prosperity  will  be  assured.'' 

"  I  must  say,"  said  Mr.  Ellery,   "  that  you  interest  me 
greatly.     If  these  things  can    be  done,  they  ought   to  be 


152  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

done,  and  if  they  ought  to  be  done   they  can  be,  if  people 
are  sufficiently  awakened  and  aroused.     But  is  that  all?" 

"  The  fourth  step  should  be  one  making  occupied 
homes,  up  to  a  certain  moderate  valuation,  free  from  all 
taxation  and  from  seizure  and  sale  for  debt  contracted  after 
the  passage  of  the  law.  But,  Mr.  Ellery,  [  must  return 
home.  I  left  there  a  while  ago,  scarcely  knowing  where  I 
was  going.  Now  I  must  go;  I  will  leave  you,  however,  a 
copy  of  a  constitutional  amendment  which  I  think  favor 
ably  of;  you  can  look  it  over  at  your  leisure.  You  will 
see,  if  you  investigate  the  subject,  that  its  provisions  do 
not  apply  to  the  great  properties  in  the  State,  nor  to  the 
business  portions  of  the  cities,  to  mines  or  other  natural 
opportunities  not  available  as  homes  for  the  people.  It  is 
only  for  the  benefit  of  those  owning  and  occupying  homes. 
At  present  it  would  not  affect  ten  per  cent,  in  value,  of  the 
property  of  the  State.  There  is  plenty  of  property,  now 
escaping  taxation,  to  bear  all  the  expenses  of  government. 
I  am  convinced  that  the  passage  of  this  amendment  would 
so  increase  the  demand  for  land  to  be  converted  into  free 
homes,  that  even  land  monopolists,  finding  ready  sale  for 
land,  which  now  they  cannot  dispose  of,  would  be  led  to 
favor  it.  Then,  too,  they  would  know  that  increased  tax 
ation  upon  unoccupied  land  held  for  speculation,  which 
would  result  from  the  exemption  of  homes,  must  finally 
make  future  land  speculation  uproductive  and  unprofitable- 
This  would  induce  them  to  sell,  so  that  altogether  all 
classes  would  find  the  amendment  drawn  in  their  interest. 
Shall  be  glad  of  your  criticism  upon  it.  We  shall  be  glad 
to  have  you  call  on  us,  Mr.  Ellery;  now  I  must  go.'' 
Handing  the  preacher  a  printed  slip,  he  walked  away  in 
the  direction  of  his  home.* 


*The  printed  slip  given  Mr.  Ellery  read  as  follows : 

PROPOSED   CONSTITUTIONAL    AMENDMENT. 

SECTION  1. — Real  estate,  or  land,  and  all  usual  improvements,  to  the  value 

of  a  sum  not  to  exceed dollars  held,  used  and 

occupied  in  good  faith  as  a  homestead  by  any  usual  and  private  family  the  head 
of  which  family  shall  be  a  citizen  of  the  United  States  and  the  State  of  Kansas,  is 


LOOKING    FORWARD.  153 

hereby  forever  exempted  from  all  taxation  of  every  kind  and  character  in  this 
State.  Provided,  that  all  lands  and  natural  opportunities  used  or  needeil  fm- 
public  use  or  business, — as  certain  limited  and  restricted  areas  in  towns  and 
cities,  all  mines,  forests,  waterfalls,  or  other  natural  opportunities  not  available 
for  cultivation  or  as  dwelling  places  be  and  the  same  are  hereby  expressly  ex 
empted  from  the  provisions  of  this  article. 

SECTION  1. — The  right  of  every  family  described  in  Section  One  of  this 
article  to  the  exclusive  possession  of  a  homestead,  held,  used  and  occupied  as 

described  in  said  Section  One  and  valued  at  a  sum  not  exceeding 

dollars  shall  not  be  abridged  or  denied  by  reason  of  any 

contract,  agreement,  mortgage  or  other  instrument  or  promise  whatsoever,  verbal 
or  written,  made  or  executed  by  the  possessors  of  said  homestead  after  this 
article  shall  have  been  adopted  in  proper  form  by  the  people  of  this  State. 

SECTION  3. — The  Legislature  shall  have  power  to  enact  all  laws  necessary 
to  carry  into  effect  the  due  intent  and  meaning  of  the  provisions  of  this  article. 


154 


LOOKING   FORWARD. 


CHAPTER     XV. 

SORROW. 

EAVING   Mr.  Ellery  by  the  roadside, 
who  still  remained  seated,  engaged  in 
reading  the  constitutional  amendment 
given    him,    Grafton    returned   to   the 
house.     As  he  opened  the  door,  Mary 
was  sitting   at  the  sewing-table,  some 
unfinished   work    was   upon    her   lap,  her 
head  was  resting  upon  the  table  in  front, 
while  Charlie  stood   at  her  side.      As  her 
father  entered,  she    raised   her  head   and 
began  to  wipe   her   eyes  with    her  hand 
kerchief;  evidently  she  had  been  weeping. 
"  Is  mother  worse  to-day?"  said  Grafton. 
"Oh,    I    don't    know    that    she   is   any 

worse,  but  it  is  plain  that  she  is  no  better,"  said  the  daugh 
ter,  as  the  tears  began  again  to  flow  ;  "  she  is  sleeping  now ; 
the  doctor  was  here  a  little  while  ago,  but  he  says  it's  of  no 
use  for  him  to  come;  that  she  doesn't  need  medicine." 

"  When  will  mamma  be  well?"  said  Charlie;  "it's  so 
still  in  the  house,  and  sister  can't  play  with  me,  and  she's 
been  crying,  and  I  don't  want  my  mother  sick,"  and  the 
little  fellow  began  to  snivel,  while  Mary  was  endeavoring  to 
calm  herself,  that  she  might  the  more  readily  comfort  the 
child. 

Grafton  did  not  answer.  Sitting  down,  he  rested  his 
elbows  upon  his  knees,  and  with  his  head  in  his  hands, 
he  abandoned  himself  to  the  gloomiest  reflections. 

Brushing  away  the  tears,  Mary  began  tidying  up  the 
room ;  bringing  a  pail  of  water  from  the  pump,  she  bathed 
her  swollen  eyes,  and  proceeded  to  arrange  for  the  evening 
meal. 

Heedless  of  what  was  going  on  around  him,  Grafton 
still  continued  in  the  characteristic  attitude  of  despair  which 
he  had  assumed.  His  thoughts  ran  back  to  the  days  of  his 


R 


I,ooKIN(;    FORWARD. 


157 


youth.  In  the  bright  dreams  of  the  future,  which  came  to 
him  then,  he  could  detect  no  likeness  to  the  sober  realities 
of  the  life  he  had  lived.  Was  life  only  a  struggle,  to  end  in 
nothing?  Was  hope  only  an  AJ/V//.V  Inhuuis  to  lure  US  on? 
Was  man  born  to  be  cheated,  or  to  cheat  himself  with  vain 
hopes  and  idle  illusions  ?  One  way  there  was,  out  of  the 
darkness.  The  ideal  held  up  before  the  mind  of  the  true 
man  was  a  perfect  one  ;  it  took  hold  on  higher  things. 
A  spark  from  the  Infinite  Light  possessed  him.  It  was  im 
possible  that  he  should  be  content  with  sordid  and  imperfect 
things.  Sordid  and  imperfect  men  might  be  content.  Hu 
man  hogs  might  increase  in  fatness  and  grunt  with  satis 
faction  in  their  styes,  but  the  life  which  should  endure  took 
no  note  of  swill.  To  increase  in  knowledge  one  must  be 
dissatisfied  with  ignorance.  Intelligent  discontent  was  the 
origin  of  all  mental  progress.  Mind  was  necessary  to  a 
man,  and  the  mind  which  grew  must  be  fed.  To  a  hog, 
swill  was  the  chief  concern.  But  the  hog  soon  came-  to  an  end. 

"  Father,"  said  Mary' "sup 
per  is  ready  !  " 

Grafton  roused  himself  from 
his  reverie  and,  mechanically, 
the  family  gathered  around 
the  table. 

"  Mother  is  sleeping  yet, 
and  I  thought  it  best  not  to 
wake  her,"  said  the  daughter. 

'  I  really  do  not  care  for 
any  thing  to  eat,  but  I  sup 
pose  it  is  best  to  go  through 
the  motions  at  about  the  reg 
ular  time/'  said  Grafton. 
"  Charlie  wants  his  supper, 
don't  you  boy  ?  " 

Charlie  made  no  audible 
reply.  His  mouth  was  full, 
and  he  contented  himself  with 


158  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

replying  by  a  nod  of  the  head  and  a  look  of  the  eyes,  quite 
readily   understood. 

(Iraftoii  and  his  daughter  ate  but  little;  occasionally  a 
furtive  glance  was  exchanged,  but  very  little  was  said. 
The  mind  of  each  was  burdened  by  sorrowful  thoughts  of 
the  wife  and  mother.  What  of  her  future  ?  Would  she 
recover  and  be  to  them  as  she  had  been  ?  Was  her  mind  to 
continue  to  wander  ?  Had  they,  in  fact,  already  lost  the 
gentle  soul  whose  smile  and  quiet  word  of  approval  out 
weighed  che  plaudits  of  all  beside  ?  They  could  not  tell ! 
Hope  struggled  with  despair.  Uncertainty  weighed  upon 
their  minds  and  left  them  in  the  control  of  that  cankering 
care  which  corrodes  and  rusts  every  material  treasure  pos 
sessed  by  man. 

The  dishes  had  been  cleared  away.  Mar}-  was  busy 
with  her  needle,  and  still  the  invalid  slept.  Grafton  sat 
reading  by  the  evening  lamp,  when  a  knock  was  heard  at 
the  door.  Mary  opened,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ellery  were  seen 
standing  without.  A  most  cordial  invitation  to  enter  from 
both  father  and  daughter  being  given,  the}-  were  soon  seated 
in  the  one  "  living  room  "  of  the  little  cottage. 

Mrs.  Ellery's  first  enquiry  was  for  the  invalid,  and  as 
Mary  replied,  explaining  as  well  as  she  could  her  symptoms 
and  the  condition  of  her  mind,  Mr.  Ellery  engaged  Grafton 
in  conversation,  remarking  that  he  had  long  intended  and 
wished  to  call,  but  confessed  that  he  scarcely  knew  what 
to  say.  His  desire  was  to  comfort  and  console,  but,  said  he 
"  Mr.  Grafton,  you  must  take  the  will  for  the  deed!  " 

"There  is  so  much,"  said  Grafton,  "that  passes  all 
understanding !  " 

"  One  can  understand  that  trials  and  troubles  ma}7 
bring  a  final  reward  in  some  cases,  but  how  is  it  with  my 
poor  wife  ?  Is  her  life,  which  was  always  so  careful  and  con 
scientious,  now  to  end  in  a  mere  blank  ?  Is  it  to  be  a  strug 
gle,  ending  in  nothing?  " 

Even  at  the  worst,  my  friend,''  said  the  preacher,  "  you 
must  remember  your  children  are  to  live.  You  can  not  say 


LOOKING  FORWARD.  159 

that  your  lives  arc  without  fruit,  which  gives  no  promise  for 
the  future!" 

"Ah,  well!"  said  Grafton,  "that  simply  carries  tilt- 
struggle  along.  Another  youth  of  promise  may  end  in 
defeat,  as  her's  seems  to  have  done." 

"All  roads,  Mr.  Grafton,  lead  to  the  end  of  the  world; 
and,  considered  without  relation  to  what  may  take  place  be 
yond,  no  transaction  of  this  is  fully  explainable.  Hut,  with 
a  future  existence  in  view,  which  shall  be  a  continuation  of 
this,  all  is  clear.  Doubt  is  removed  only  by  action.  For 
every  man  there  is  a  duty.  He  cannot  know  all  reasons 
and  understand  all  mysteries.  Whatever  appears  to  a  man 
to  be  truth,  that  must  he  follow  or  be  condemned.  But  he 
must  follow!  Conviction  must  be  converted  into  conduct! 
Action  must  result;  and  if  action  square  with  his  highest 
conception  of  truth,  all  will  be  well.  Of  one  thing  I  would, 
if  I  could,  convince  every  man,  and  that  is,  that  the  Great 
Power  which  controls  the  forces  of  nature  is  friendly  and 
favorable  to  man." 

While  Mr.  Ellery  continued  talking,  the  ladies  ad 
journed  to  the  little  bed-room  which  opened  out  of  the  room 
in  which  they  sat.  Mrs.  Grafton  was  now  awake;  she  knew 
Mrs.  Ellery,  and  spoke  pleasantly  to  her. 

"  Where  is  Charlie  ?  "    said  she. 

"  1  put  him  to  bed  long  ago,  mother,''  said  Mary. 

%>  He  was  crying,  a  while  ago,  I  heard  him  just  as  1 
went  to  sleep,  and  he  wanted  me.  Poor  dear  !  I  fear  he  will 
do  without  me  soon;  Mary,  you  will  not  leave  him,  will  you?" 

"Ah,  mother!''  said  Mary,  "you  must  not  talk  of  leav 
ing  us!  If  you  would  only  think  so,  you  could  recover  and 
bring  happiness  to  us  all !  " 

"  Do  you  not  think,,'  said  Mrs.  Ellery,  "that  it  is  your 
duty  to  try  to  get  well  ?  " 

"  No;  I  have  struggled  all  my  life,  I  have  done  what  I 
could,  I  am  tired  and  weary.  Rest !  Rest ! !  I  must  rest ! 

Mary  was  unwearied  in  her  attentions,  and  Mrs.  Ellery 
assisted  her  as  well  as  she  could,  but  the  invalid  relapsed 


160  LOOKING  FORWARD. 

into  a  somnolent  condition,  but  half  awake,  and  answered 
their  further  enquiries  with  only  a  monosyllable  now  and 
then.  After  a  short  interval  Mrs.  Ellery  rose  and,  with  her 
husband,  took  leave  of  the  sorrowing  household. 

"  Grafton,"  said  Mr.  Kllery,  as  he  took  his  hand  in 
parting,  "  if  there  is  anything  I  can  assist  you  in,  you  will 
let  me  know,  won't  you?  " 

Ivife  at  the  Grafton  cottage  had  lost  its  charm.  Charlie 
was  fretful  and  querulous  at  times,  apparently  without  cause. 
He  wanted  this  or  that — until  he  got  it — and  was  contented 
with  nothing  long.  Sister  must  help  him  find  the  ball 
which  he  had  lost,  or  assist  in  his  game  of  marbles  ;  and, 
unwearied  as  she  was  in  his  behalf,  when  not  attending 
upon  her  mother's  wants  or  engaged  in  the  daily  round  of 
household  cares  which  now  absorbed  much  of  her  time,  yet 
it  seemed  impossible  for  him  to  be  the  contented,  happy 
child  of  the  past.  That  his  mother  was  ill  was  occasion  for 
sorrow  with  him,  when  in  her  presence,  but,  grown  familiar 
with  her  absence  from  the  kitchen,  where  her  waking  hours 
had  mostly  been  spent,  he  soon  forgot  it  all,  or  so  it  seemed; 
and  yet  he  was  unhappy  ;  why,  he  could  not  tell. 

Whoever  has  seen  a  fretful,  crying  infant,  in  its  over 
tasked  and  discouraged  mother's  arms,  taken  from  her  who 
should  have  been  its  chief  joy  and  source  of  comfort,  by  the 
possessor  of  even-tempered  vigorous  health,  and  seen  the 
quivering  lip,  the  fretful  sob  and  the  injured  air  of  the  child 
quickly  disappear  and  give  place  to  the  happy  smile  and 
exultant  crow,  can  well  believe  that  little  mortals,  at  least, 
are  dependent  upon  the  mental  states  of  those  with  whom 
they  are  associated.  And  are  we  not  taught  by  the  occur 
rences  of  our  every-day  life,  that  children  of  a  larger  growth 
and  maturer  years  are  also  dependent  upon  those  with  whom 
they  come  in  contact  for  the  color  of  their  thoughts  ? 

Mrs.  Grafton  had  gradually  become  weaker  and  still 
weaker,  as  time  passed  on.  She  did  not  complain,  but  had 
apparently  abandoned  all  hope  of  relief  at  mortal  hands. 
At  times  her  mind  wandered,  and  the  poor,  tired,  discour- 


FORWARD.  l6l 

aged  woman  became  again,  in  thought,  a  little  child.  Again 
she  trod  the  joyous  paths  of  youth,  wandered  beside  the 
running  brook  her  childhood  knew,  and  gathered  the  flowers 
which,  in  imagination,  she  saw.  Seated  upon  her  bed,  al 
though  heart-broken  in  their  anguish,  Grafton  and  his 
daughter  were  forced  to  join  in  thought  with  her. 

"Ah,  there  is  such  a  beauty!  Mary,  help  me  to  get  it; 
it  is  there  near  you  !  " 

"Here,  mother,  it  is!"  said  Mary;  and,  although  the 
hand  which  touched  her  mother's  contained  no  visible  thing, 
the  want  of  the  moment  was  filled. 

"  See  !  is  n't  it  lovely !  look  at  the  beautiful  colors ! 
Ah,  how  nice  to  be  here !  " 

As  the  thin,  wan  face  of  the  rapidly-aging  woman  was 
lighted  up  by  what  should  have  been  a  smile,  but  which 
only  served  to  show  the  distraction  of  a  mind  diseased,  bitter 
tears  filled  the  eyes  of  the  beholders.  But  she  saw  them 
not.  Occupied  with  the  conceit,  her  mind  took  no  note  of 
things  as  they  were,  she  only  saw  what  her  disordered  brain 
bade  her  observe.  Suddenly,  perhaps,  the  scene  with  her 
would  change  and  hysterical  tears  flow  from  unnatural  eyes. 
For  the  moment  nothing  could  allay  her  fears.  Then,  as 
suddenly  as  it  came,  the  paroxysm  would  depart,  to  be  fol 
lowed  by  a  new  fancy  which  her  family  were  called  upon  to 
share.  During  these  trying  times  there  was  no  relief  to  the 
anxious  watchers.  Her  eyes  constantly  stared,  with  a 
dreadful  look,  which  did  not  change.  Whether  distressed 
by  fear  or  overcome  with  simulated  joy,  the  eyes  which  so 
long  had  shone  with  the  mild  radiance  of  approval  and  love, 
now  glared  with  a  light  from  which  reason  had  departed. 
The  joyless  hours  flew  wearily  by.  Day  was  as  night,  and 
night  as  day.  Wearied  at  last,  nature  gave  up  the  contest 
and  sleep  came,  to  quell,  for  a  time,  the  anxieties  of  the 
family. 

These  terrible  scenes  left  the  afflicted  soul  each  time 
weaker  than  before.  Succeeded  as  they  were  by  seasons  of 
comparative  rest  and  quiet,  which  yet  brought  no  hope,  no 


l62  LOOKING  FORWARD. 

ray  of  returning  comfort  to  the  invalid,  she  gradually  sank 
and  came  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  end  of  the  life  to  which 
she  did  not  cling  and  for  which  she  had  ceased  to  care. 

The  doctor  came  occasionally  and  talked  learnedly  of 
anaemia  and  of  hysterical  conditions.  He  brought  in  con 
sultation  a  brother  physician  from  Branchton,  who  advised 
that,  upon  the  return  of  the  paroxysms,  large  doses  of  opium 
be  administered,  or  if  this  should  fail,  that  chloroform  be 
used  to  quiet  the  sufferer;  but  neither  Grafton  nor  his 
daughter  would  listen  to  this.  They  would  not,  and  could 
not  hear  to  the  thought  of  thus  destroying  sensation,  in  the 
being  they  loved  so  well. 

"  She  is  not  violent,"  said  Mary,  "  and  I  will  not  do 
otherwise  than  I  know  she  would  wish  me  to  do.  I  know 
she  would  not  approve,  and  I  cannot  give  my  consent." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ellery,  as  well  as  other  friends,  were 
constant  in  their  efforts  for  the  sufferer.  But  there  was 
little  to  be  done,  except  to  sit  and  watch  at  the  bed-side  of 
her  who  was  gradually  fading  away.  Generally,  she  was 
quiet  and  rational,  and  for  the  most  part  complained  only  of 
weariness.  Death,  she  longed  for,  and  spoke  only  of  it  as  a 
relief.  She  would  soon  be  at  rest.  The  weakness  of  the 
body  had  infected  the  mind ;  she  cared  little  for  any  thing. 
Her  life,  she  felt,  had  been  lived.  For  herself,  she  no  longer 
participated  in  the  thoughts  of  those  about  her.  But,  for 
her  child,  the  mother-heart  within  her  still  welled  up  with 
entreaty  and  prayer  for  her  boy:  "  God  pit}*  him  ;  he  would 
be  so  lonely  without  her!''  Calmly  she  spoke  of  her 
rapidly-approaching  death,  and  urged  again  and  again  that 
Mary  would  remember  the  charge  she  left  with  her. 

"  He  will  need  a  mother,  Mary,"  said  she,  "  and  you 
must  be  one  to  him.'' 

"  You  have  been  a  good  daughter,  Mary ;  you  never 
failed  me ;  I  know  you  will  not  in  this  ; — and  your  father, 
Mary  ;  he  will  need  your  care  ;  our  home  has  been  happy  ; 
lie  will  miss  me,  and  sorrow  in  silence.  Be  a  true  woman. 


LOOKINV,    FORWARD.  163 

Mary,  and  I  feel  that  somewhere,  and  somehow,  we  shall  all 
be  again  united.      Kiss  me,  daughter!  " 

With  streaming  eyes  and  heaving  breast,  the  daughter 
clasped  the  worn  and  wasted  form  of  the  dear  mother  to  her 
heart. 

Again  and  again  was  this  repeated,  and  still  sh< 
inained  with  them.  Nature  still  refused  to  loose  the  silver 
cord.  As  she  gradually  became  weaker  the  paroxysms  were 
also  less  and  less  violent.  Often  had  (irafton  and  his 
daughter  prayed  with  tearful  earnestness  that  she  might  be 
permitted  to  die,  if  die  she  must,  in  peace,  with  all  her  pow 
ers  of  mind  unimpaired  and  in  possession,  at  the  last,  of 
all  those  faculties  which  had  so  endeared  her  to  them. 

The  turn  of  the  tide  came  at  last.  The  violence  of  her 
disease  had  finally  expended  its  force.  Though  so  worn 
and  wasted  as  to  bring  the  bitterest  tears  to  the  eyes  of  her 
husband, — who  so  well  remembered  the  light-hearted  and 
beautiful  girl,  who,  years  before,  had  trustingly  given  her 
hand  to  him, — she  yet  was  sane.  The  eyes  which  looked 
lovingly  into  his,  were  the  same  which  had  answered  to  his 
glance  through  all  the  years  of  their  pilgrimage. 

Hope  suddenly  filled  his  heart.  She  would  now  recover! 
Life  had  still  a  charm  for  him.  In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye 
his  thought  had  taken  in  the  prospect  of  future  years.  He 
would  slave  for  her,  if  need  be;  she  should  not  be  denied 
the  advantages  which  he  felt  so  lovely  and  gentle  a  soul  had 
earned  of  right.  For  her  he  would  dare  any  and  all  things. 
How  precious  she  seemed!  And,  as  he  bent  over  her,  their 
lips  met  in  an  ecstacy  of  love. 

u  George/'  said  she,  feebly,  "  I  am  going  to  leave  you  ! 
You  have  been  a  good  husband  to  me — you  never  deceived 
me — you — you  always  loved  me — ( lod  bless  and  keep  you.'' 

He  would  have  interrupted  her  with  gentle  remon 
strance,  but  suddenly  the  unwelcome  truth  was  forced  upon 
his  mind,  struck  his  new-found  j 03-  ruthlessly  to  earth,  aiid 
pressed  the  chalice  of  bitter  despair  to  his  lips. 


164 


LOOKING  FORWARD. 


u  Call  Mary  !  "   feebly  said  the  dying  woman. 

Mary  had  gone  but  a  moment ;  she  was  in  the  adjoin 
ing  room.  Grafton  hurriedly  called  her;  she  came  at  once. 
iThe  mother  looked  lovingly  at  her ;  essayed  to  lift  her  hand 
for  a  last  farewell ;  the  light  of  life  departed  from  her  eyes, 
the  dear  head  fell  wearily,  and  she  was  dead. 


LOOKING   KOI:\\  AKI>. 


CHA  I'TKK     XVI. 

GRIEF. 


ORDS   cannot    portray    tin-    agony 
and    distress   which    overwhelmed 
the  minds  of  George  Graft  on  and 
his  daughter   at  the   loss    ol"  wife 
and  mother.      The  thought  of  her 
death    had    been     terrible;     it    was    a 
spectre  which  of  late   had   been  a  con 
stant    guest    at    their    home,    but    the 
realization  of  the  \\-orst,  left  them  with 
nothing  to  oppose,  save  the    blackness 
of  darkness  which  now  shrouded  their 

every  thought.  The  spectre  ot  coming  evil  is  still  a  spectre  ; 
it  mav  be  escaped;  it  is  not  fully  comprehended,  and,  like  a 
terrible  dream,  its  influence  may  be  shaken  off,  in  part,  by 
the  resolute;  but  bereavement  and  the  ruthlessness  of  death 
strike  the  afflicted  with  a  chilling  force,  against  which  no 
resolution  of  the  mind  or  argument  of  the  intellect  can  avail. 
The  ancient  Persians  worshipped  fire  as  a  symbol  of 
deity.  Taken  from,  it  does  not  decrease.  It  apparently 
destroys  all  things,  and  yet  is,  itself,  never  consumed. 
Capable  of  infinite  division,  its  character  never  changes,  and 
while  it  may  be  transplanted  to  the  uttermost  parts,  yet  it 
ceases  and  determines  if  a  suitable  dwelling  place  be  not 
provided.  And  may  it  not  be,  indeed,  a  type  and  sign  of 
the  Infinite  Light?  But  from  mortal  man  ever  goes  up  the 
cry,  when  from  the  altar  of  his  affections  the  fire  of  life  has 
departed:  "Whence?  and  Whither?" 

Where,  now,  is  the  ruddy  gleam  which  s<>  lately  cheered 
the  heart  and  delighted  the  sense  ?  The  fire  that  has  gone 
out;  where  is  it  ? 

Gradually  they  begin  to  feel  that  duty  to  the  living 
required  them  to  cease  useless  repining,  and  an  effort  was 
made  to  assume  again  the  duties  and  responsibilities  of  life; 
and  this  was  made  the  more  necessary  by  Charlie's  youthful 


1 66  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

insensibility  and  lack  of  comprehension.  As  the  form  of 
his  mother  had  been  lowered  in  to  her  grave  he.  for  the  first 
time  apparently,  fully  realized  his  loss  and  appeared  over 
whelmed  at  what  to  him  seemed  the  heartlessness  of  utter 
abandonment.  His  cry:  "  Don't  let  my  mother  be  put  in 
the  ground,"  had  brought  tears  to  the  eyes  of  the  most 
careless  and  indifferent  looker-on. 

Standing  at  the  grave,  George  Grafton  supported  the 
form  of  his  (laughter  and  held  the  hand  of  his  boy. 
He  stood  erect,  no  sound  escaping  his  lips;  tears  streamed 
from  his  eyes  and  coursed  down  his  face,  and  although  his 
vision  took  in  the  occurrences  about  him,  he  yet  was  occu 
pied  with  the  thought,  which  at  that  trying  moment  was 
turned  into  conviction:  "  We  shall  meet  again!  " 

The  burial  had  occurred  just  at  set  of  sun,  and  as 
Grafton  stood  at  the  grave-side,  his  little  family  elinging 
to  him  in  an  agony  of  grief,  the  spirit  of  the  man  sustained 
him:  looking  up,  for  the  moment  he  was  comforted,  just 
as  the  rays  of  the  departing  sun  struggled  from  behind  the 
cloud  which  here  obscured  its  brightness.  And  as  its  last 
beams  shone  full  upon  him,  conviction  was  borne  in  upon 
him  and  fashioned  itself  in  the  thought:  "  My  love,  you 
are  not  lost! " 

But  the  exaltation  of  the  moment  soon  departed. 
At  the  poor  little  home  everv  thin  a  brought  his  loss  to 

i  »  O 

mind  and  stirred  the  grief  which  filled  his  heart.  Days 
followed  in  which  he  abandoned  himself  to  the  luxury  of 
grief. 

But  now  the  time  had  come  when  he  must  bestir  him 
self  and  provide  for  the  wants  of  his  children.  Charlie's 
boyish  fancies  and  easy  forgetfulness  had  been  a  source  of 
trial  to  both  father  and  daughter.  He  soon  wished  to  be 
amused,  and  his  active  little  muscles  ached  at  thought  of 
further  inaction.  That  he  should  so  soon  be  able  to  laugh 
struck  them  with  wonder  and  ama/ement,  as  something 
almost  akin  to  sacrilege.  But  nature  always  triumphs! 
Little  by  little  they  began  to  see  that  the  healthy  activity 


LOOKING,     FORWARD.  l6/ 

of  the  l>ov  called  them  from  tin-  selfish  indulgence  in  a 
sorrow  which  could  not  save  and  which  if  further  indulged 
would  dishonor  the  wishes  of  her  whom  they  mourned. 
Sorrowfully  the  thread  of  life  was  taken  up,  and  work 
again  begun. 

Mr.  Kllery  was  among  the  first  to  call.  He  attempted 
no  word  of  consolation,  hut  the  grasp  of  his  hand  and  the 
look  of  his  eve  told  all  that  was  worth  the  telling. 

"As  you  know/'  said  he  to  Mary.  "  I  am  a  member  of 
the  school-board,  and  I  have  had  a  conference  with  mv 

«, 

associates  in  which  we  have  agreed  to  offer  you  a  position 
in  the  Plainville  schools.  Will  you  accept'.'" 

As  Mary  hesitated,  making  for  the  moment  no  reply, 
he  continued: 

u  No  doubt  you  feel  at  this  time  very  little  inclination 
to  engage  in  any  occupation,  but  your  own  good  sense  will 
tell  you  that  employment  of  some  kind  is  an  absolute 
necessity  to  your  own  mental  well-being." 

•  Your  offer  is  most  kindly  made,"  said  Mr.  Graf  ton. 
"  but  I  scarcely  see  how  she  could  accept  it,  on  account  of 
the  difficulties  in  the  way." 

"  I  have  thought  of  them,"  said  Mr.  Kllery,  cheerfully, 
"  and  think  that  all  can  be  arranged  satisfactorily.  You, 
my  friend,  are  well  fitted  for  some  kinds  of  employment  to 
which  you  might  turn  your  attention,  provided  you  were 
not  tied  to  this  little  homestead.  Mrs.  Kllery  and  myself 
have  talked  the  matter  over  and  she  is  anxious  to  have 
Mary  and  Charlie  make  their  home  with  us.  We  have  no 
children,  and,  as  much  of  my  time  is  employed  in  my 
stud\\  or  in  the  duties  of  my  position,  she  is  sometimes 
lonely.  Mary  was  always  a  favorite  of  hers,  and  would  be 
to  her  a  most  acceptable  companion.  The  little  fellow 
could  have  a  home  with  us,  and  go  with  his  sister  to  school. 
Of  course,  we  are  poor,  and  have  little  to  give,  but  the 
necessary  expense  of  living  would  bo  reduced  for  Mary  and 
the  boy  at  our  house.  We  have  quite  a  large  house,  and 
but  two  inhabitants." 


l68  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

''  I  am  very  grateful  to  you  for  your  offer/'  said  Graf- 
ton,  "  but  I  fear  that  you  may  be  drawing  too  heavily  upon 
your  generosity  and  that  you  do  not  fully  count  the  cost  in 
such  a  complete  change  as  this  must  bring  about  in  your 
household." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  said  Mr.  Ellery,  "  my  wife  will 
consider  it  a  favor  to  herself.  Being  alone  so  much,  she 
fears  she  may  become  morbid  and  selfish,  and  looks  for 
ward  to  the  arrangement  with  the  greatest  pleasure.  She 
has  long  looked  upon  Mary  as  a  daughter  and  I  feel  sure 
that  if  you  will  give  the  plan  encouragement  she  will  be 
able  to  bring  arguments  to  bear  which  will  silence  all 
objections." 

So  far  Mary  had  not  spoken.  Evidently  her  mind 
was  engaged  in  revolving  the  advantages  and  disadvantages 
of  the  proposed  plan.  Both  Mr  Ellery  and  her  father  had 
spoken,  and  now  both  looked  to  her  for  an  expression  of 
opinion. 

"  I  do  not  see  how  it  can  be,"  she  said.  "  You  would 
have  no  home,  father.  I  could  not  bear  the  thought  of 
thus  completely  breaking  up  what  was  once  so  happy  a 
home." 

Tears  came  to  her  eyes,  and  for  a  moment  she  was 
unable  to  proceed.  Graf  ton,  himself,  could  not  resist  the 
infection,  and  a  silence  fell  on  all,  broken  only  by  the  ill- 
concealed  sobs,  which  Mary  could  not  entirely  suppress. 

Mr.  Ellery  prudently  withdrew,  with  the  intention  of 
sending  his  wife  to  still  further  urge  the  matter 

After  Mr.  Ellery  had  taken  his  leave,  Mary  gave  way 
to  her  feelings  completely,  while  Grafton  sat,  with  his 
head  resting  in  his  hands,  for  the  moment  irresolute  and 
broken-hearted.  The  wild  grief  of  his  daughter,  which 
had  now  broken  forth  afresh  at  thought  of  the  final  break- 
ing-up  of  the  family,  strangely  affected  him  and  completely 
unmanned  him. 

"  Oh,  my  mother!  my  mother!  Why  were  you  torn 
from  us?  Why  could  I  not  have  been  taken  instead?"  she 


I.OOKINC,    FORWARD. 


169 


wailed.     Tear-  and  sobs  and  broken    ejaculations  followed 

•  iradually  she  became  calmer,  and  endeavored  to 
restrain  herself. 

Seeing  that  the  violence  of  her  grief  had,  for  the  time, 
expended  its  force,  (irafton  took  his  hat  and  \ventout. 

Charlie  was  engaged  near  the  house  Ln  driving  little 
sticks  into  the  ground,  in  the  form  of  a  circle.  As  his 
father  came  out  the  door,  he  called  to  him  : 

"Say,  pa,  come  and  see  my  little  corral!" 

<  Irafton  walked  slowly  toward  the  hoy,  saying,  as  he 
drew  near:  "Yes,  I  see  the  corral,  but  where  are  your 
cattle?" 

"  \Vliv.  don't  yon  see  them  over  there?"  pointing,  as 
he  spoke,  to  half  a  do/en  queer-shaped  pieces  of  corn-cob, 
into  which  he  had  carefully  stuck  short  splinters  to  repre 
sent  legs;  shorter  sticks,  stuck  into  one  end,  representing 
horns;  at  least,  that  was  the  explanation  offered.  One  of 
the  "cattle,"  which  Charlie  said  was  "old  Crumple,"  was 
possessed  of  crooked  little  sticks,  representing  the  old  cow's 
crooked  and  ungainly  horns. 

The  ridiculous  little  "  cattle  "  made 
(Irafton  laugh,  before  he  knew  it. 

"  How  do  you  tell    which    end  is  the 
head?''  said  he. 

"  Oh,  you  just  stick  on  the  horns, 
and  that  makes  the  head;  the  other 
end  is  n't." 

Graf  ton  laughed  again,  and,  al 
though  he  had  made  no  sound,  and  his 
laugh  was  only  a  larger  smile,  he  in 
stantly  checked  himself  with  a  feeling 
that  he  had  done  an  unseemly  thing. 
"  Come  Charlie/'  said  he,  "  let  us 
go  up  to  town  and  see  what  there  may  be  in  the  post-office 
for  us !  " 

The  home  of  the  Graf  tons  was,  as  has  been  stated,  just 
in  the  outskirts  of  the  village  of  Plainville,  and  as  it  was 


ryo 


LOOKING    FORWARD. 


•only  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  the  post-office,  the  walk 
was  not  unsuited  to  the  little  fellow's  abilities. 

As  he  walked  along,  the  clear,  bracing  air  and  the 
childish  talk  of  his  boy  gradually  produced  their  effect 
upon  the  mind  of  the  man,  and  although  he  replied  to  the 
boy  and  kept  up  a  desultory  sort  of  a  conversation  with 
him,  his  mind  was  really  engaged  in  turning  over  the 
proposition  made  by  Mr.  Ellery.  and  the  conclusion  which 
he  quickly  reached, — if,  indeed,  it  had  not  been  reached 
before, — was  that,  for  Mary,  the  offer  was  exceptionally 
advantageous.  Mrs.  Ellery  was  a  cultivated  woman  of 
equable  temperament  and  a  most  charitable  disposition, 
and,  although  he  had  at  first  thought  that  the  plan  might 
have  been  proposed  solely  as  a  sort  of  semi-charity  to  an 
afflicted  family,  further  reflection  satisfied  him  that  the 
arrangement  with  a  young  woman  of  Mary's  capabilities 
and  generous  disposition  might  prove  as  much  of  a  help  to 
the  Ellerys  as  to  her 
self. 

Arrived  at  the  post- 
office,  he  sat  down  to 
read  some  letters  which 
were  given  him.  Char 
lie  sat  on  a  nail-keg  by 
his  side,  engaged  in 
noting  the  peculiari 
ties  of  Mr.  Baker's 
various  customers. 

Grafton  had  been 
one  of  the  earliest  or 
ganizers  among  the 
farmers,  of  the  Alli 
ance.  Having  taken 
an  active  part,  he  had 
gradually  come  to  be 
considered  as  one  of 
the  fathers  of  the  or-  ^ 


LOOK  INC,     FORWARD. 


171 


ganizatioD  and  had  been  elected  by  that  body  a>  "  lec 
turer. "  Holding  thi<  position.  In-  had  been  called  upon  to 
deliver  addresses  at  diHeivnt  places,  hut  of  late,  on  account 
of  his  wife's  illness  and  death,  lie  had  not  heen  ahle  t<> 
leave  home.  Two  of  the  letters  were  from  places  at  a  dis 
tance,  urging  him  to  once  more  take  up  the  work. 

He  had  barely  finished  reading  his  letters  and  was 
folding  up  the  last  one  lie  had  read,  when  Mi-,  (ireene.  the 
Mate  president  of  the  farmers'  organization,  came  hurriedly 
into  the  store. 

Hello,  Grafton."  said  he;  "  I've  just  come  from  your 
lion- 

'*  Why.  so  have  I,"   said  he. 

••  Well.  I  missed  you  on  the  way,  somehow.  I  suppose." 

"  When  did  you  come  in?" 

"  Why,  just  a  little  while  ago,  on  the  last  train,  and  I 
bolted  right  down  to  your  house,  which  a  hoy  showed  me. 
Your  daughter  said  she  thought  you  were  here,  and  so  it 
proved.  Say.  <  Jrafton.  I've  got  some  work  for  you,"  said  he. 


LOOKING    FORWARD. 

CHAPTER    XVII. 

BREAKING  I'P. 

ELL,  what  is  it  ?  "  said  Graf- 
ton. 

"  Well,  it  is  rather  a   long 
story    to    tell    all    the    whys 
and  wherefores,  but   to  cut  it 
short,  the  executive  board  has  come  to 
the  conclusion  to   take  a  forward  step 
and  make  an  organized  effort  to  secure 
what  we  have  been  l  resolutingj'  about 
so  long.      Resolutions   cut   no   figure 
whatever,  except  to  draw  the  attention 
and  fix  the  thoughts   of  men  upon  a 

definite  method ;  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  most  resolutions 
don't  even  do  that.  An  average  crowd  is  satisfied  with 
swelling  periods  and  eloquent  words,  which  may  be  only 
used  to  deceive.  Now  we  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
we  have  got  through  with  the  '  Whereases  '  and  '  P>e  it  re- 
sol  veds  '  and  have  got  to  do  something.  Some  of  our  men 
want  to  resolute  some  more  and  are  most  afraid  of  doing 
something,  but  the  time  never  will  come,  I  guess,  when  all 
men  can  see  exactly  alike.  Anyhow,  the  board  has  made 
up  its  mind  to  go  ahead  with  a  definite  plan.  It  is  plain 
that  we  can  only  get  what  we  want  by  political  action ;  by 
the  election  of  men  who  will  carry  out  our  wishes,  and  the 
next  thing  is  to  elect  them.  But  first  we  must  be  agreed  as 
to  what  we  want  them  to  do  when  elected.  The  members 
of  the  board,  after  a  good  deal  of  argument  among  them 
selves,  have  come  to  an  agreement  upon  a  general  plan  very 
near  like  that  proposed  in  your  address,  which  was  published 
in  some  of  the  papers,  as  you  remember.  The  next  thing 
is  to  carry  it  out,  and  a  resolution  was  passed  which,  in  ef 
fect,  brought  me  here  as  a  committee  of  one  to  induce  you 
to  undertake  a  mission.  You  are  to  visit  every  County 


I 


•< 

c 


B. 


I.ooKINC,     FORWARD.  175 

Alliance  in  the  State,  and  as  many  sub-Alliances  as  possible, 
deliver  an  address  advocating  the  proposed  plan  of  cam 
paign,  answer  objections,  and  otherwise  forward  the  work 
the  board  has  undertaken.  The  board  will  direct  you  from 
time  to  time  regarding  minor  matters  and  will  see  that  yon 
are  paid  for  your  services.  There  !  that's  the  whole  story." 

"  Well,  that  is  a  mission,  sure  enough  !  ''  said  Grafton. 
''  How  much  time  will  be  employed  in  all  that  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that's  hard  to  tell.  Yon  have  held  the  position 
of  State  Lecturer,  are  \vell  known  and  are  just  the  man  for 
this  special  business.  The  board  will  engage  you  until  the 
annual  meeting,  and  I  make  no  question  that  you  can  then 
be  elected  as  State  Lecturer  again  and  kept  constantly  at 
work.1' 

"  Well,  Greene,  that  strikes  me  rather  favorobly  just  at 
this  time  ;  fact  is,  I  am  undetermined  what  course  to  take. 
Seems  strange,  though,  that  you  should  come  just  now.'' 

"  Oh  no;  nothing  strange  about  that.  I  heard  of  your 
recent  affliction  and  thought  that  now  you  would  be  able  to 
leave  home.  I  should  have  come  to  see  you  before  if  I 
had  n't  known  that  it  was  impossible  for  you  to  leave." 

41  There  is  more  in  this  than  you  know,''  said  Grafton. 
"  (  )nly  to-day  was  an  offer  made  which  will  place  my  child 
ren  in  a  comfortable  home  and  make  it  possible  for  me  to 
leave  them  with  a  feeling  of  security  and  satisfaction.1' 

"  These  so-called  co-incidents  are  semetimes  wonderful 
as  mere  happenings/  said  Greene.  u  But  somehow  I've  an 
idea  that  affairs  move  on  a  regular  plan.  Each  man  only 
sees  one  act  in  the  play,  and  can't  make  head  or  tail  to  it ; 
he  only  reads  one  chapter  in  the  story  and  thinks  the  villiau 
is  having  too  good  a  time  of  it,  and  that  the  good  men  and 
women  are  not  sufficiently  appreciated,  but  my  notion  is 
that  when  we  are  able  to  read  the  book  clear  through  we'll 
see  that  things  are  managed  for  us." 

41  Come  home  with  me  and  we  will  talk  this  matter  of 
the  mission  over,1'  said  Grafton.  "You  can't  go  back  until 
to-morrow,  any  way." 


LOOKING    FORWARD. 


u  Charlie,"  said  Graftoii,  "  you  run  on  ahead  and  tell 
sister  that  Mr.  Greene  is  coming  home  with  me!  We  will 
be  along  directly." 

When  Grafton  and  his  friend  arrived  at  the  cottage, 
they  were  met  by  Charlie,  who  came  out  a  little  way  to  meet 
them. 

"  Mrs.  Ellery  is  in  the  house,"  said  he.  u  She  came  to 
see  sister." 

"  I'll  not  go  in  just  yet,"  said  Mr.  Greene.  u  Charlie 
will  show  me  his  pig  first.  I  see  you  have  some  pigs;  which 
one  is  yours  ?  " 

Charlie  led  the  way  to  the  pig-pen,  anxious  to  show- 
Mr.  Greene  which  one  he  called  his,  tell  him  what  its  name 
was  and  describe  its  peculiarities. 

Grafton   went   at    once    iuto    the   house. 
As  he  entered,  Mrs.  Ellery   and   Mary  were 
sitting  close  together ;    Mrs.  Ellery  had  her 
arm  around  Mary,  who   was  actually  smil 
ing,  although  her  eyes  bore 
evidence  of  recent  tears. 

"  I  came  right  down  as 
soon  as  Mr.  Ellery  came 
home'  and  told  me  that  he 
had  been  here,"  said  Mrs. 
Ellery,  speaking  to  Grafton, 
"and  I  am  so  glad  I  did.  I 
can  sympathize  with  Mary, 
"  perfectly  ;  my  mother  died 
when  I  was  quite  young 

and,  although  it  is  now  years  ago,  it  seems  but  yesterday  to 
me.  Mary  has  promised  to  come  up  in  the  morning  to  see 
me,  and  we  can  then  arrange  all  the  particulars  of  her 
coming  to  us, — that  is,  if  you  don't  object,  Mr.  Grafton." 

"  You  don't  know  how  grateful  T  am  to  you,  Mrs.  Ellery, 
for  the  offer  made,"  said  Grafton,  warmly,  "  but  I  can't  help 
feeling  some  misgivings  in  relation  to  the  matter/' 


LOOKINV,    FORWARD.  177 

"  Yes,  of  course  I  should  expect  it,  but  \ve  can  put  it  in 
this  way  :  Mary  can  have  a  place  in  the  schools  as  long  as 
she  pleases,  no  doubt ;  everybody  loves  her,  and  she  will 
then  be  self-supporting.  She  can  board  with  us  and  keep 
Charlie  with  her.  Should  this  arrangement  come  to  an  end, 
another  can  be  made,  never  fear.  But  I  want  her  near  me. 
Here,  everything  brings  her  loss  constantly  to  mind,  and  it 
would  unfit  her  for  the  place  which  I  believe  she  will  yet  fill." 

As  Grafton  made  no  immediate  reply,  Mrs.  Ellery 
bustled  about  in  a  kindly,  motherly  fashion,  putting  on  "her 
things,1'  as  she  prepared  to  go. 

"  Put  on  your  sun-bonnet,  Mary,  and  go  a  piece  with 
me/'  said  she. 

As  the  ladies  stepped  out  the  door,  Grafton  rose,  went 
into  the  little  kitchen  and  begun  to  build  a  fire  in  the  stove, 
that  it  might  be  ready  for  Mary,  when  she  returned,  to  use 
in  getting  supper.  While  he  was  busy  at  this,  Charlie  came 
in,  leading  Mr.  Greene  by  the  hand,  busily  engaged,  mean 
time,  in  giving  that  gentleman  a  full  account,  not  only  of 
the  pigs,  but  also  of  other  matters  in  which  he  was  interested. 

M-iry  soon  returned  and  busied  herself  with  the  prepa 
ration  of  the  evening  meal.  Mr.  Greene  was  interested  in  a 
book,  and  comfortably  seated  in  the  ''living  room,"  while 
<  Jrafton  still  remained  in  the  kitchen.  Softly  closing  the 
door  between  the  rooms,  Grafton  said  to  his  daughter: 

"  It  seems  to  me,  Mary,  that  it  will  be  just  the  thing 
for  you, — at  this  time,  at  any  rate, — to  take  up  with  the  offer 
of  the  Ellerys." 

For  the  moment  she  made  no  reply  ;  indeed,  she  felt 
that  she  could  scarcely  trust  herself  to  speak,  and  kept 
busily  at  work  ;  presently  she  said  : 

"  Everything  seems  to  point  to  the  arrangement  as  the 
best  that  can  be  made." 

'  Well,  then,"  said  he,  "we  will  understand  that  you 
undertake  the  school.  I  will  sell  off  our  little  stock  of  mov 
able  property  and  can  let  you  have  some  money,  which  you 


LOOKING  FORWARD 

\vill  need.      If  worst  conies  to  worst,  we  can   at  least  come 
back  here.'' 

Graftoii  rejoined  his  friend  in  the  other  room,  and  be 
fore  the  evening  was  over  it  was  arranged  between  them 
that  within  two  weeks  he  should  report  to  Mr.  Greene,  as 
the  president  of  the  executive  board,  for  duty. 

The  next  morning  Mr.  Greene  took  his  departure,  well 
pleased  in  having  secured  the  active  co-operation  of  the  one 
man  whom  he  thought  full}-  capable  of  conducting  the  w^ork 
undertaken  by  the  organization  of  which  he  was  the  head. 

Having  made  up  his  mind,  Graftoii  was  not  the  man  to 
long  delay  in  the  execution  of  his  plans,  but  actively  set  to 
work  to  make  the  necessary  preparations  for  carrying  into 
effect  the  plan  in  view.  As  soon  as  breakfast  was  over  and 
his  guest  had  departed,  he  went  at  once  to  see  parties  whom 
he  thought  might  buy  the  property  he  was  now  anxious  to 
sell. 

After  Mary  had  finished  her  morning  work  she  put  on 
a  neatly-fitting  black  dress,  combed  her  luxuriant  brown 
hair  with  even  more  than  her  usual  care  and,  taking  Charlie 
by  the  hand,  set  out  for  the  promised  call  on  Mrs.  Ellery. 
As  she  locked  the  door  of  the  little  cottage  and  turned  away 
from  its  silent  and  melancholy  walls,  it  was  with  difficulty 
at  first  that  she  could  proceed.  Thoughts  of  the  past,  now 
gone  forever,  came  over  her  with  great  and  most  depressing 
force.  But  she  was  young  and  healthful,  the  morning  air 
was  invigorating,  and  as  Charlie,  with  the  thoughtless 
gaiety  of  youth,  kept  up  a  cheerful  and  enlivening  conver 
sation,  in  which  she  was  forced  to  join,  she  had  not  gone  far 
until  she  found  her  spirits  rise  and  much  of  that  dread 
weight  depart,  which  so  long  had  pressed,  with  crushing 
heaviness,  upon  her  heart.  On  the  way,  she  met  a  number 
of  her  acquaintances,  all  of  whom  greeted  her  with  interest 
and  plain  evidence  of  good-will  in  their  countenances.  This 
could  not  fail  of  its  effect.  The  human  heart  is  hungry  for 
sympathy,  and  without  it  the  half  of  life  is  lost. 


MRS.    ELLERY, 


I.OMKINC,    FORWARD. 


179 


"Uncle  Bill"  he  stopped  for  ;i  moment  :    "(  ioo<l 
morning,  Mr.  Weldon,"  said  she. 

"  I  0.111  awful  glad  to  see  yon  looking  so  \\vll  this  morn 
ing,"  said  he.  "  I  believe  yon  are  getting  prettier  all  the 
time  !  " 


Alary  blushed,  and,  with  some  slight  confusion,  said  : 
u  Now,  Mr.  Welden,  you  really  are  a  flatterer.  I  did't  think 
it  of  yon  !  " 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  he,  "I  am  an  old  man  and  half  the 
time  I  have  a  sneaking  notion  that  I'm  an  old  fool,  but  there 
is  no  flattery  in  that/' 


l8o  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

As  Mary  continued  her  walk  the  old  man  turned  to 
look  after  her,  saying  to  himself  as  he  did  so,  "  She  is  a 
pretty  woman,  that's  a  fact."  Going  into  his  house,  which 
was  near  by,  he  told  his  wife:  "That  girl  of  Grafton's  is 
going  to  make  some  man's  heart  ache  *  fore  long '  or  I  miss 
my  guess." 

Arrived  at  the  Ellery's,  Mar}-  and  Charlie  were  in  the 
midst  of  a  pleasant  chat  as  Mrs.  Kllery,  having  seen  them 
coming,  appeared  at  the  door  and  drawing  Mary's  arm 
within  her  own,  ushered  her  at  once  into  the  sitting-room. 

It  contained  a  stranger.  A  tall,  broad-shouldered 
young  man  of  light  complexion  and  expressive  face  was 
engaged  in  conversation  with  Mr.  Ellery. 

"  Mr.  Maitland,"  said  Mrs.  Ellery,  "  this  is  my  young 
friend,  Mary  Grafton  ;  she  was  not  aware  that  any  one  was 
present  or,  I  dare  say,  she  would  not  have  come  in.'' 

Mr.  Maitland  rose  with  easy  grace  and  politely  acknowl 
edged  the  introduction. 

"  Mr.  Maitland  is  the  son  of  my  old  townsman  and 
college  class-mate,"  said  Mr.  Ellery,  "who  has  just  arrived 
this  morning,  rather  unexpectedly.  He  is  on  a  pleasure 
trip,  at  present,  and  happened  in,  as  we  say.  I  don't  know 
of  anybody,  George,  that  could  give  me  more  pleasure  by  a 
visit  than  yourself;  unless,  indeed,  it  should  be  your  father 
himself." 

Mrs.  Ellery  had,  by  this  time,  removed  Mary's  hat. 
The  morning  walk  and  the  unexpected  meeting  with  a  cul 
tivated  stranger  had  caused  the  native  rose  to  flush  upon 
her  cheek  and  dispel  the  pallor  which,  of  late,  had  prevented 
its  appearance.  Mr.  Ellerv  wondered  that  he  had  not  no 
ticed  before,  that  she  was  really  a  beautiful  woman.  He  had 
thought  her  an  interesting  and  intelligent  girl,  pretty,  per 
haps  ;  but  now  his  eyes  were  opened  and  he  was  surprised. 

The  look  of  the  stranger  clearly  showed  that  he,  too, 
was  impressed.  He  was  a  gentleman,  he  did  not  stare,  but 
his  occasional  glances  betrayed  the  feeling  of  interest  and 
admiration,  which  he  could  not  conceal. 


LOOK  I  NT,     FORWARD. 


181 


Mr.  Hllery's  conversation  inul  Mrs.  Kllery's  officious 
pleasantries  prevented  any  feeling  of  embarrassment  on 
Mary's  part,  while  Charlie,  unnoticed  by  all,  sat  bolt  upright 
on  one  of  Mrs.  Ellery's  "  stuffed  chairs  "  and  looked  at  first 
one  then  another.  Evidently  he  didn't  understand  the 
situation. 


l82  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

CHAPTER    XVIII. 

THE    STRANGER. 

R.  MAITLAND  was  the  only  son  and  heii 
of  a  wealthy  Massachusetts  manufacturer, 
who  had  been  the  early  friend  and  class 
mate  at  college  of  Mr.  Ellery.  At  gradu 
ation  the  paths  of  the  two  had  separated, 
Maitland  entering  business  with  his  fa 
ther,  while  Ellery  began  the  study  of 
divinity  at  Andover.  After  his  gradua 
tion  at  Andover  he  had  been  settled  for 
some  years  in  Massachusetts,  and  the 
friends  had  kept  up  an  intimacy,  which, 
upon  Mr.  Ellery 's  return  to  the  West  had  been  interrupted, 
and  with  the  exception  of  the  very  rare  visits  of  Mr.  Ellery 
to  the  old  Massachusetts  home,  had  now  almost  ceased. 
The  younger  Maitland  was  also  an  alumnus  of  the  same 
college  at  which  his  father  had  passed  what  he  now  looked 
backward  to,  as  four  of  his  happiest  years.  At  his  gradu 
ation  he  was  entirely  undetermined  regarding  the  course 
of  life  which  he  should  adopt.  He  was  a  generous-hearted 
youth  who,  having  never  been  obliged  to  exert  himself,  on 
account  of  his  father's  growing  wealth,  had  so  far  pursued 
the  even  tenor  of  his  way  without  meeting  with  opposition 
sufficient  to  determine  what  his  real  character  might  yet 
prove  to  be.  Possessed  of  a  stalwart  frame,  he  was  also 
indebted  to  nature  for  an  equable  temper  and  cheery  good 
sense.  That  he  was  an  optimist,  looking  upon  the  brighter 
side  of  life,  was  a  matter  of  course. 

Although  the  elder  Maitland  had  left  his  son  free  to 
choose  the  manner  of  life  he  would  lead,  his  own  high  sense 
of  fealty  to  the  race  had  induced  him,  after  due  reflection, 
to  take  up  the  study  of  divinity  with  the  intention  of  finally 
entering  the  ministry.  And  this  had  been  accomplished, 
and  at  the  time  of  his  visit  he  had  finished  his  studies  and 
been  licensed  as  a  preacher,  although  he  had  never  been 


< 

T3 


LOOKING  FORWARD.  185 

settled  as  a  pastor.  During  the  progress  of  his  studies  at 
Andover  doubts  had  arisen  in  his  mind  regarding  the  doc 
trines  there  taught,  and  he  had  become  somewhat  unsettled 
in  his  views.  Seixing  upon  this  as  a  favorable  opportunity, 
he  had  resolved  to  spend  some  time  in  travel  before  he  be 
gan  the  work  of  his  life,  regarding  which  he  now  felt  some 
misgivings. 

This,  then,  was  the  man  whom  we  have  now  introduced 
to  our  readers.  He  had  never  been  in  the  West,  and  Kansas 
and  her  people  were  alike  new  and  strange  to  him. 

After  a  little  time  spent  in  general  conversation,  Mrs. 
Ellery  said  : 

u  Mr.  Maitland,  will  you  please  excuse  us  ;  here  in  the 
West  we  are  our  own  servants,  you  know,  and  therefore  not 
entirely  the  mistresses  of  our  own  time;  no  doubt  Mr.  Ellery 
will  now  have  some  one  who  can  fully  sympathize  with  him." 

No  sooner  had  the  ladies  got  away  from  the  sound  of 
the  voices  of  the  two  gentlemen,  now  busily  engaged  in 
telling  and  hearing  news  from  "  old  Amherst,"  than  Mary 
said  : 

"  Now,  Mrs.  Ellery,  what  made  you  take  me  into  that 
room  ?  " 

"  Why,  my  dear,  Mr.  Maitland  had  just  said  that  the 
people  of  the  West  whom  he  had  seen  did  not  impress  him 
very  favorably,  and  I  was  anxious  to  show  him  that  we 
really  had  some  nice  people  residing  here,  and  from  his 
manner  I  fancy  that  he  will  now  acknowledge  that  he  was 
too  swift  in  his  judgment." 

Mary  blushed  :  it  was  a  new  experience  to  her,  and  for 
the  moment  the  thought  that  she  had  been  paraded  as  a 
specimen  was  rather  unpleasant.  And  this  must  have  ap 
peared  upon  her  face,  for  Mrs.  Ellery  continued  : 

u  You  poor  little  innocent,  don't  take  it  so  seriously  to 
heart.  You  made  a  good  appearance.  It  was  plain  to  all 
that  you  were  ignorant  of  his  presence  when  I  ushered  you 
in.  If  any  one  is  to  blame  of  course  it  must  be  myself,  but 
I  can't  say  that  I  feel  that  I  have  sinned.  I  think,  how- 


i86 


LOOKING    FORWARD. 


ever,  that  most  women  take  delight  in  bringing  together 
eligible  young  people." 

The  flush  upon  Mary's  face  gradually  disappeared  as 
she  said  : 

"  Don't  deceive  yourself;  Mr.  Maitland  is  a  gentleman 
of  wealth  and  position,  and  would  only  feel  amusement  at 
the  mention  of  my  4  eligibility.' ' 

"  Don't  deceive  yourself,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Ellery ; 
u  I  know  something  of  society  and  of  the  people  whom 
Mr.  Maitland  has  been  accustomed  to  meet,  and  I  am  of  a 
very  different  opinion  ;  still,  we  will  not  discuss  the  matter 
further,  now,  at  any  rate,  as  I  must  proceed  to  get  my  din 
ner.  No  matter  how  nice  and  refined  men  may  be,  I  never 
found  one  yet  that  didn't  like  a  good  dinner." 


Charlie,  long  ago,  had  taken  himself  out  into  the  yard, 
where,  just  now,  he  was  trying  to  minister  to  the  wants  of 
a  distracted  old  hen.  The  hen,  with  her  little  brood  about 
her,  had  been  tied  to  a  stake  that  she  might  not  wander. 
Anxiety  for  the  welfare  of  her  downy  flock  had,  however, 
taken  away  the  little  judgment  her  foolish  head  contained, 
and  much  fluttering  had  hopelessly  involved  her.  She  lay 
upon  her  side,  the  string  many  times  about  her,  and  pre 
venting  further  motion.  Charlie  was  unable  to  extricate 
her,  and  called  loudly  :  "  Oh,  Mary,  come  !  The  poor  biddy 
can't  get  up  !  " 


LOOKING   FOKWAKI-).  187 

Mary  ran  out  the  hack  dour  and  soon  had  poor  biddy 
upon  her  feet,  with  all  her  brood  about  her.  Giving  Charlie 
a  love  pat  upon  the  cheek,  she  charged  him  not  to  'k  get  into 
mischief,  and  was  back  again  in  a  moment.  Mrs.  Kllery 
had  noted  the-  occurrence  from  the  window,  and  when  Marx- 
appeared  she  said  : 

''  What  a  dear  little  mother  you  are,  to  be  sure  !  ' 

For  a  moment  Mary  did  not  understand,  and  Mrs. 
Ellery  explained  : 

'Just  to  see  how  Charlie  depended  upon  you,  and  how 
you  managed  both  him  and  the  poor  old  hen." 

"  Why  shouldn't  I?"  said  she. 

"  To  be  sure,"  said  she,  ll  it  seems  easy  and  natural  to 
you." 

Mrs.  Ellery  did  not  offer  further  explanation,  but  she 
could  not  but  wonder  at  what  appeared  to  her  as  the  won 
derful  adaptability  of  the  young  woman  beside  her. 
Of  generous  temper  and  naturally  elevated  thought,  well- 
read  for  her  years,  she  yet  was  most  capable  and  efficient  in 
the  ordinary  walks  and  work  of  life.  In  whatever  position 
placed,  she  yet  seemed  easily  to  lead. 

As  they  proceeded  with  the  work  of  the  kitchen,  the 
proposed  change  was  fully  discussed,  and  it  was  determined 
that  when  Mr.  Grafton  had  completed  his  preparations,  that 
Mary  and  Charlie  should  take  up  their  residence  with  the 
Elle'rys.  - 

Having  assisted  Mrs.  Ellery  up  to  the  time  when  she 
was  nearly  ready  to  place  her  dinner  upon  the  table,  not 
withstanding  the  entreaties  of  Mrs.  Ellery  to  stay  to  dinner, 
she  took  Charlie  by  the  hand  and  soon  was  at  home. 

Ushered  in  to  dinner  soon  after,  Mr.  Maitland  at  once 
inquired  for  Miss  Grafton. 

"  Oh,'-'  said  Mrs.  Ellery,  u  she  would  not  stay.  I  knew 
she  wouldn't,  although,  of  course,  I  tried  to  induce  her/' 

"  She  is  quite  pretty/'  said  he. 


l88  LOOKING   FORWARD. 

"  So,  then,  you  have  changed  your  opinion,''  said  Mrs. 
Ellery,  playfully ;  "  only  a  little  while  ago  you  were  saying 
that  Western  people  did  not  impress  you  favorably." 

"  Of  course,"  said  he,  "I  spoke  hastily,  and  really 
without  much  opportunity  to  form  an  opinion.'' 

"I  think,  George,''  said  Mr.  Ellery,  "that  we  under 
stand,  in  part,  at  least,  why  you  have  spoken  as  you  have. 
I  know  that  was  my  impression  on  first  coming  to  the  West. 
People  in  Massachusetts  pay  far  more  attention  to  dress 
and  appearances  than  here,  and  the  average  dress  and  man 
ner  of  the  men  of  a  Western  town,  in  the  eyes  of  a  resident 
of  an  Eastern  city,  appear  very  careless  and  hurried,  while 
occasionally  a  prominent  and  worthy  citizen  is  actually 
slovenly  in  both  dress  and  manner.  This  does  not  arise 
from  intentional  disrespect  for  the  forms  of  good-breeding, 
but  is  simply  owing  to  the  newness  of  the  country  and  its 
consequent  freedom  from  social  mannerisms.  Men  readily 
run  back  to  first  principles  ;  our  own  frontiersmen,  thrown 
into  contact  with  Indians,  dress  like  Indians  and  act  like 
them.  Send  a  dozen  college  boys  on  a  "  camping-out"  tour, 
and  they  very  readily  and  naturally  drop  many  customs 
which  are  quite  indispensible  at  home.  And  so  it  has  been 
with  us  of  the  West.  We  have  followed  the  custom  of  the 
country,  but  you  will  find  as  much,  if  not  more,  sterling 
character  and  native  ability  among  Western  people  as 
among  the  better-dressed  and  more  dissembling  citizens  of 
the  East.  This,  however,  is  being  rapidly  changed,  and  in 
our  larger  towns  you  will  find  great  efforts  made  in  keeping 
up  appearances,  which,  after  all,  are  very  deceitful." 

"  No  doubt  that  is  true,''  said  Mr.  Maitland,  "  but  you 
haven't  told  me  anything  about  this  Miss  Graftoii  yet." 

"  No,  I  haven't;  I  shall  be  obliged  to  turn  you  over  to 
Mrs.  Ellery  for  full  information,  although  I  can  say  that 
she  is  a  rather  remarkable  young  person." 

"  We  will  call  upon  Mary  to-morrow,  or  in  a  day  or 
two,  if  you  wish,"  said  Mrs.  Ellery,  secretly  overjoyed  at 
the  turn  affairs  had  taken. 


LOOK  INC,    FORWARD. 


189 


4  Why,  yes,"  said  he,  "if  we-  can  do  so  properly,  And 
without  violating  the  proprieties.  I  should  be  pleased  to 
do  so." 


LOOKING  FORWARD. 


him 


C  H  A  P  T  K  R     X  I  X . 

THK  STUDKNT  AM)  THK  KARMKK. 

R.    MAITLAND    seemed    won 
derfully    attracted    by    Kansas 
scenery  and  people.     The  clear 
sunny  days,  the  lightness  of  the 
air,  with  the  consequent  slight 
ly-increased      respiration      and 
natural     invigoration,    had    for 
as  they  have  for  all,  when  first  they 
come    under  these    subtile    influences,   a 
nameless     charm     and     fascination    not 
easily  resisted. 

s  » 

The  people,  too,  were  to  him  a  con 
stant  study.  While  some  there  were  who  strove  to  appear 
what  they  were  not,  for  the  most  part  there  was  an  absence 
of  that  miserable  spirit  of  dissimulation  and  pretence  which, 
in  larger  or  smaller  measure,  appears  inseparably  connected 
with  the  advancement  of  cultivated  and  refining  influences. 
With  most  there  was  a  hearty  naturalness  which  had  for 
him,  as  it  has  for  all,  an  attraction  which  he  felt  no  disposi 
tion  to  resist. 

Aided  by  the  natural  and  womanly  tact  of  .Mrs.  Kllery, 
within  the  first  week  of  his  residence  in  Plainville  he  had 
several  times  met  Mary  Grafton.  Her  fresh,  young  face 
had  first  attracted  him,  but  as  he  came  to  know  her  better, 
this  was  temporarily  forgotten  in  his  growing  wonder  at  the 
grasp  of  mind  betrayed  in  casual  conversation.  Where  had 
she  learned  the  thoughts  expressed  ?  Although  the  cottage 
contained  a  good  many  books,  for  a  cottage,  still  to  him  the 
collection,  exposed  as  it  was  in  the  little  u  living-room,"  was 
insignificant  and  wholly  incapable  of  revealing  the  mystery. 
Who  had  taught  her  to  think  ?  Was  she  self-taught  ? 
And  where  did  thought  originate  ?  Could  one  think  only 
the  thoughts  of  others?  .Or,  in  the  evolution  of  interior 
consciousness,  did  this  comparatively  untaught  woman 


9 

r 


LOOK  IXC,    FORWARD.  193 

originate  for  herself  the  clear  opinions  which  she  so  modest 
ly  expressed?  Or  did  thought  "come"  to  people  from  an 
exterior  source,  a  supersensory  realm  whose  very  existence 
was  unknown  to  those  favored  by  its  ministrations  ?  But 
who  could  answer  ?  To  the  deepest  questioning  of  his  miiul 
no  answer  had  ever  been  returned.  Would  answer  ever 
come  ?  Could  it  be  possible  that  the  intense  desire  of  man 
to  know  would,  in  some  far-off  sphere,  be  finally  and  full}' 
satisfied  ;  or, — distressing  thought — did  man  but  grope-  in 
darkness,  forever  reaching  blindly  toward  an  ideal  impos 
sible  of  attainment  ? 

To  Maitland,  Mary  ( rrafton  was  an  enigma  he  could 
not  solve.  She  seemed  possessed  of  a  two-fold  nature. 
Seen  at  her  home  and  in  the  homely  performance  of  the 
duties  devolving  upon  her  as  daughter  and  sister,  she  was 
most  charmingly  natural  and  helpful.  Her  very  look,  as 
she  sought  her  father's  pleasure  or  answered  the  childish 
questioning  of  her  little  brother  was  to  Maitland  an  inspir 
ation  and  a  lesson  in  that  divine  sympathy  which  enfolds 
the  world  with  the  radiance  of  heaven.  Engaged,  however, 
in  serious  conversation,  the  elevation  of  her  thought  and  the 
calm  superiority  of  her  manner,  utterly  lacking  in  self- 
consciousness,  evinced  the  power  of  an  intellect  which  com 
pelled  his  respect,  although  he  could  not  agree  with  its 
conclusions.  She  certainly  differed  from  the  young  ladies 
of  his  acquaintance. 

The  little  household  was  an  open  book  to  all  who  came, 
and  the  very  poverty  of  its  surroundings  compelled  a  pub- 
licit}'  to  which  Maitland  had  heretofore  been  a  stranger. 
The  little  "living-room"  with  the  "lean-to''  kitchen  and 
two  tiny  bed-rooms  made  up  the  establishment.  One  room 
served  all  the  various  purposes  of  parlor,  dining-room  and 
library  ;  between  this  and  the  kitchen  the  door  was  generally 
open,  and  thus  was  for  the  first  time  presented  to  the  visitor 
an  opportunity  to  study  a  manner  of  life  to  which  he  now 
paid  close  attention.  Here  were  people  without  what  he 
had  been  taught  to  regard  as  the  comforts  and  refinements 


194  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

of  life,  who  yet  were  happy  in  each  other.  Without  scho 
lastic  attainments,  here  was  an  attractive  personage  who  yet 
was  capable  of  the  most  elevated  thought. 

Plainly,  he  was  becoming  interested,  and  Mrs.  Ellery 
was  correspondingly  happy.  The  visit,  which  at  first  was 
intended  only  as  a  stay  of  a  day  or  two,  on  the  way  to  Cali 
fornia,  gradually  lengthened,  without  apparent  intention  on 
the  part  of  the  young  preacher  of  bringing  it  to  a  close. 

Mr.  Hllery's  horse  and  buggy  were  often  seen  standing 
at  the  cottage  door.  Mrs.  Ellery,  somehow,  had  so  much  to 
say  to  Mary  concerning  the  removal,  that  frequent  trips  were 
necessary,  and  as  the  duty  of  entertaing  Mr.  Maitland  had 
in  part  fallen  on  her,  she  contrived  to  be  accompanied  by 
him  on  divers  and  sundry  occasions,  which  the  neighbors 
remarked,  became  more  and  more  frequent  as  time  passed  on- 

Mr.  Maitland  had  met  Mr.  Grafton  a  number  of  times, 
but  between  the  two  no  intimate  acquaintance  seemed  pos 
sible; — in  fact,  a  serious  constraint  had  early  developed. 
The  business  which  Grafton  intended  undertaking  was 
often  discussed  in  the  hearing  of  the  young  man  and  com 
ments  varying  with  the  feelings  and  sentiments  of  the 
speaker  were  expressed,  so  that  he  had  come  to  believe  that, 
as  Grafton's  mission  was  that  of  an  agitator,  intended  to 
affect  political  action,  it  was,  no  matter  how  honest  the 
intention,  rather  shadowy  in  its  nature.  He  did  not  think 
it  exactly  disreputable,  but  his  education  and  previous  train 
ing  inclined  him  to  think  it  exceedingly  questionable  in 
character. 

In  his  view,  the  fortunes  of  all  were  in  their  own  hands, 
and  for  people  to  rebel  against  what  he  regarded  as  the  de 
crees  of  fate  or  the  orderings  of  Providence,  was  simply  to 
find  fault  with  themselves  in  endeavoring  to  foist  the  blame 
of  results  upon  laws  or  customs,  when  whatever  of  ill  had 
resulted  was  entirely  owing  to  personal  shortcoming. 
In  consonance  with  this,  the  only  way  to  remedy  whatever 
of  ill  there  was  in  life  was  for  each  to  bring  himself  into 
right  relations  with  his  surroundings.  And  this  was  to  be 


L<>OKIN<;  K(>H\VARI).  195 

effected  mainly  by  each  securing  for  himself  a  personal 
righteousness  of  character  which  would  insure  to  all  the 
highest  development  of  which  each  was  capable,  and  what 
ever  measure  of  worldly  success  was  intended  tor  the 
individual.  The  American  form  of  government  was  a> 
nearly  perfect  as  it  was  possible  for  human  eflort  to  con 
struct,  and  fault-finding  with  that  was  almost  -acrilegiou- 
in  character.  Thus  armed,  he  considered  that  (Irafton,  in 
undertaking  radical  change,  was  rushing  in  where  angels 
might  well  feel  the  need  of  caution  in  their  movements. 

The  two  men,  thus  differently  constituted,  had.  in  con 
versation,  drifted  upon  the  topics  in  which  Grafton  wa 

deeply  interested.  Each  felt  satisfied  that  he  had  found 
out  how  the  other  stood,  and  like  mental  combatants  gen- 
erallv.  each  bad  underrated  the  position  of  the  other. 

l>ut  they  could  scarcely  refrain  from  argument. 

One  day  when  Maitland  was  at  Grafton's  little  place, 
the  younger  man  determining  to  "have  it  out"  with  the 
elder,  said:  "  1  don't  think  I  understand,  Mr.  Grafton,  the 
position  vou  occupy.  Farmers,  from  the  nature  of  their 
occupation,  have  always  suffered  some  privations,  though 
certain Iv  fewer  now  than  ever  before;  but  then,  they  have 
many  advantages  over  the  dwellers  in  cities.  Cultivators 
of  farms  have  been  happy  and  contented  in  the  past. 
Years  ago  the  New  England  farmer  was  thought  to  occupy 
a  most  favored  position:  bow  is  it  that  I  find,  now-a-days, 
BO  many  who  are  dissatisfied  and  discontented?  Are  they 
not  largely  to  blame  for  this,  themselves?" 

"  Would  you  advise  a  man  to  cultivate  contentment 
who  sees  all  he  holds  clear  in  life  slipping  away  from  him?" 
said  Grafton. 

"  By  no  means,"  returned  the  other:  ''  but  do  not  men 
have  as  good,  or  even  a  better  chance,  to  hold  their  own 
now  than  in  the  past  ?" 

"  In  the  revolutionary  days/' said  Grafton,  "  I  suppose 
you  will  admit  that  the  people  of  Boston  might  very  easily 


196  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

have  borne  the  exactions  of  the  stamp  act  and  the  tax  on 
tea,  if  so  minded?" 

"  Doubtless,  that  is  true,"  said  Maitland. 

"  People  in  those  days  were  not  suffering  for  the 
means  of  living.  History  shows  us  that,  so  far  as  ordinary 
affairs  were  concerned,  King  George's  taxation  did  not 
bear  heavily  upon  them.  It  was  the  principle  involved 
that  roused  their  ire.  The  burden  they  bore  was  largely  a 
mental  one.  Libert}-  was  what  they  desired." 

"  I  presume  you  are  right  in  that,"  said  Maitland. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Maitland,  do  you  think  they  ought  to  have 
submitted  ?" 

"  I  have  always  been  taught  that  our  fathers  were 
right  in  what  they  did  then." 

"  Mr.  Maitland,"  said  Graf  ton,  "  you  know  very  well 
that  the  true  man  and  the  true  nation  must  advance. 
This  is  the  law  of  life.  To  cease  to  advance,  is  to  begin  to 
decline.  The  common  school,  the  habit  'of  reading,  the 
telegraph,  the  amazing  spread  of  intelligence  and  the  ad 
vance  of  invention  are  all  pushing  the  race  forward.  In 
telligent  people  cannot  remain  at  rest  mentally.  As  with 
our  revolutionary  ancestors,  so  it  is  to-day;  we,  too,  desire 
liberty  and  an  opportunity  to  advance. 

"  Every  intelligent  man  desires  for  himself  and  his 
family  some  part  in  the  activities  and  privileges  of  the 
present  and  the  hopes  of  the  future.  For  the  future  oppor 
tunities  of  his  children  he  will  fight,  if  need  be.  In  bring 
ing  children  into  the  world  he  has  assumed  responsibility 
for  their  future  well-being.  No  true  man  can  think  com 
placently  of  their  existence  as  mere  beasts  of  burden. 
Surrounded  by  the  wonders  of  the  Nineteenth  century,  it 
is  impossible  that  those  who  create  the  wealth  of  to-day 
should  be  satisfied  to  be  continually  defrauded.  It  was 
not  that  the  people  who  threw  overboard  the  tea  and  over 
turned  the  statue  of  George  III.  were  reduced  to  poverty, 
but  rather  that,  having  determined  to  be  free,  they  recog 
nized  the  fact  that  between  themselves  and  their  oppressors 


I.OOKINV,    FORWARD.  197 

i  here  was  an  irrepressible  conflict  impending  which  could 
only  be  prevented  by  the  renunciation  on  the  part  of  the 
governing  power  of  unjust  taxation. 

"  So  it  is  to-day — wo  complain  of  unjust  la\vs  and  un 
just  taxation,  a>  our  fathers  did;  like  them.  we  SIM;  where 
it  all  must  end,  and  like  them,  wo  pe revive  i:iat  between 
ourselves,  who  represent  the  producers  of  wealth,  and  tliose 
whose  desire  is  simply  to  absorb  without  creating,  a  con 
flict  is  impending  which  Avill  never  Ix^  settled  until  each 
man  is  free  to  retain  within  his  own  hands  the  fruits  of 
his  own  labor — now  he  is  not.  In  a  hundred  ways  Ins 
little  earnings  are  taken  from  him  by  indirect- and  crooked 
methods,  made  justifiable  by  law.  And  these  impositions 
are  constantly  increasing:  even  now  it  is  practically  im 
possible  for  the  ordinary  fanner  who  would  give  his  family 
any  of  the  advantages  and  refinements  of  modern  life,  who 
wishes  them  to  take  part  in  the  hopes  and  advancements 
of  the  future,  to  keep  out  of  debt,  and  when  once  in  debt 
bis  financial  ruin  is  assured.  So,  seeing  what  the  future 
has  in  store  for  us  and  our  families,  we  have  determined 
to  resist." 

"  l>ut  do  you  think  thai  your  condition  can  be  com 
pared  to  that  of  the  revolutionary  fathers?" 

'  Yes:  except  ill  this,  that  our  causes  of  complaint  are 
far  greater  than  theirs.  Then,  too,  the  British  ministry. 
their  government,  of  which  thev  com  plained.-— was  not 
farther  from  them  than  are  the  monopoli/ing  forces  which 
control  our  national  government  from  our  Western  farm 
ers  to-day.  V\'e  are  unrepresented  in  th--  councils  of  th<>-<- 
who  reallv  control  the  hundred  form-  of  robbery  of  which 
we  complain." 

"  Well.  Mr.  <i  ration,  what  do  you  propose  to  do  about 
it?  You  tell  me  that  the  people  are  unable  to  Control  the 
general  government.  I  ><>  they  intend  to  rebel'/" 

"  If  they  are  ever  successful  in  obtaining  relief  they 
must  rebel,  though  armed  force  is  not  necessary;  they  can 
proceed  entirdv  within  the  law.  They  have  the  ballot. 


198  LOOKING  FORWARD. 

Heretofore,  in  all  the  history  of  the  world,  advance  has 
come  through  blood.  But  it  came.  Nothing  could  prevent 
it  when  the  time  was  ripe,  for  the  forces  of  nature  and  the 
purposes  of  God  in  the  creation  of  man  were,  and  now  are, 
behind  the  forward  movement.  All  the  forces  of  nature 
are  concerned  in  uplifting  the  race, — the  great  mass  of 
mankind, — from  the  plane  of  the  savage  to  higher  and  yet 
higher  conditions.  Of  course,  the  comfortable  classes  and 
those  possessed  of  privilege  have  always  opposed;  they 
have  always  imagined  that  they  represented  civilization 
and  enlightenment;  they  have  despised  the  innovators 
who  have  always  arisen  from  what  they  term  "  the  lower 
classes."  "  Throw  down  your  arms  and  disperse,  you  rag 
amuffins!"  said  Captain  Pitcairn  at  Lexington  to  the 
poorly-clad  American  farmers. 

"  In  the  past,  unjust  governments,  and  consequent 
economic  conditions,  could  not  be  changed  except  by 
armed  rebellion.  Now  they  can.  Universal  manhood 
suffrage  is  a  new  thing  in  the  world,  and  by  means  of  it 
the  people  who  create  wealth  will  be  able  to  manage  it. 
But  the  change  will  come  in  some  manner.  To  suppose 
that  it  will  not  is  to  think  that  the  progress  of  the  race 
can  be  stayed.  Only  the  ignorant  rich  think  that.  Every 
body  else  knows  that  the  clock  of  destiny  marks  the  time 
of  another  step  in  advance.  Of  course,  1  know  very  well 
that  we  are  despised  and  derided  by  the  men  we  oppose. 
That  makes  no  difference  to  us.  We  are  upheld  by  knowl 
edge  that  our  cause  is  just.  That  is  sufficient  for  us." 

"  But  I  do  not  understand,1'  said  Maitland,  "just  how 
you  would  proceed  to  bring  about  these  changes.  You  tell 
me  of  the  difficulty  of  obtaining  possession  of  the  govern 
ment,  and  yet  you  speak  of  the  ballot  as  the  only  weapon 
you  would  employ! '' 

"Usury,  Mr.  Maitland;  usury  has  been  the  cause  of 
the  downfall  of  all  the  nations  of  the  past.  You  know 
very  well  that  at  the  time  of  the  translation  of  the  Bible, 
in  the  days  of  King  James,  that  the  word  '  usury'  meant 


I.MOKINC,     l-'ORWARI).  199 

anv  interest  <m  money.  This  is  what  is  cursed  from  one 
end  of  the  hook  to  tlie  other.  And  yet  not  one  of  vour 
fashionable  preacher-  dare  pivach  against  it.  liead  N.«- 
hemiah.  v:  1-K>.  for  a  detailed  account  of  mortgage,  usury, 
foreclosure  and  eviction  among  the  .lews.  You  know.  too. 
that  one  method,  and  only  one.  has  ever  heen  u<ed  in  the 
destruction  of  all  the  hurled  nation-  of  antiquity.  Sec  how 
it  was  in  Rome:  the  rich  loaned  the  poor  moiiev  and  took 
mortgages  upon  their  homes,  foreclosed  and  sei/ed  them. 
Then  the  nation  perished.  A  very  crafty  way  of  making 
slaves  of  former  freemen ;  hut  it  is  sure.  <  )pen  your  eye-, 
investigate,  and  you  will  see  the  same  schemes  already 
well  under  way  in  America.  Very  little  money  circulates 
without  the  payment  of  interest  hy  several  parties  on  tin.' 
same  dollar.  It  is  horrowed  from  the  hank,  ie-deposited 
and  re-loaned,  in  some  instance.-,  many  times.  In  this  way 
>everal  husiness  men  often  pay  interest  on  the  dollar  in 
the  hands  of  the  laborer.  This  is  hlue  ruin  itself,  if  men 
only  had  sense-  enough  to  perceive  it.  Business  and  labor 
arc  -hackled  to  the  banker's  car.  and  yet  men  are  taught 
to  regard  this  system,  hy  means  of  which  every  communitv 
i-  made  to  pay  trihute  on  what  the  banker  owes,  as  the 
sum  of  human  wisdom!  And,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  the 
average  citi/en  believes  this  lie  and  scorns  the  man  whu 
shows  it  up! 

"  In  our  Colonial  days  several  of  the  colonies,  notably 
Virginia  and  North  Carolina,  issued  scrip  receivable  for 
taxe-.  which  allowed  exchanges  to  be  made  without  the 
payment  of  usury.  Jefferson  says  this  scrip  never  depre 
ciated  a  farthing  in  twenty  years.  When  it  was  made  to 
bear  interest  it  was  locked  up, — when  it  did  not,  it  circu 
lated  freely.  Really,  you  will  see,  if  you  look  carefully  for 
the  evidence,  that  the  prohibition  of  this  scrip  by  English 
law  was  a  chief  cause  of  our  revolution.  Now,  English 
influence,  operating  through  our  Wall  street,  is  endeavor 
ing  to  prevent  the  making  of  exchanges  between  man  and 
man  unless  tribute  is  paid  many  times  over  on  every 


20O  LOOKING  FORWARD. 

dollar  used  as  a  tool  of  trade.  This  dimiiaishes  trade,  les 
sens  business,  depreciates  the  value  of  property,  throws 
men  out  of  employment  and  stops  the  wheels  of  commerce 
Debt  and  the  payment  of  interest  constitute  the  main 
reason  for  the  increasing  wealth  of  the  rich  and  their 
growing  power  over  the  lives  of  the  poor.  This  is  hateful 
to  us.  Intelligent  Americans  cannot  bear  the  feeling  of 
injustice  which  arises  from  this  state  of  affairs — and  no 
man  ought  to  bear  it!  It  is  idle  to  talk  of  the  comfortable 
position  of  some  subjected  to  these  conditions.  That  cuts 
no  figure  with  men  who  desire  to  be  free!  We  despise 
those  who  only  look  for  generous  masters!  Laws  regard 
ing  the  rate  of  interest  are  quickly  nullified  by  the  neces 
sities  of  the  borrower  and  the  avarice  of  the  lender,  and 
the  only  final  and  radical  cure  of  the  trouble  which  now 
threatens  our  civilization  is  the  abolition  of  debt.  And 
this  is  not  only  possible,  but  easily  arrived  at  whenever 
the  people  are  sufficiently  aroused  to  take  an  active  part 
in  securing  so  desirable  a  reform. 

"  One-half  of  the  trap  into  which  the  people  of  Kansas 
have  fallen  is  provided  by  Wall  street  in  its  control  of 
Congress,  but  the  other  side  is  furnished  by  the  laws  of 
Kansas;  and  whenever  the  debt-cursed  people  of  Kansas 
get  up  spirit  enough  to  hold  their  side  level,  then  the  'jaws' 
will  fail  to  come  together  and  the  machine  will  be  out  of 
joint. 

"  Then  congressmen  will  discover  for  the  first  time 
that  something  must  be  done  in  our  behalf,  and  they  never 
will  move  until  this  is  done.  Mark  that! '' 

"  You  propose,  then,  to  nullify  the  laws  of  Congress, 
do  you?" 

"  No;  that  will  not  be  necessary.  We  propose  to  pro 
tect  our  own  people  by  the  passage  of  perfectly  constitu 
tional  State  laws." 

"  Please  tell  me  what  those  laws  may  be?" 


LOOK  INC,     FORWARD.  2OI 

"  Of  course,  1  can  only  outline  them  here;  but  I  will 
say  that  four  measures  enacted  into  law  will  bring  about 
the  changes  we  desire. 

"  First — Laws  directing  foreclosure  and  sale  of  mort 
gaged  real  estate,  by  means  of  which  a  stay  of  proceedings 
may  be  had.  This  will  temporarily  save  our  homes. 

"  Second — A  repeal  of  all  laws  for  the  collection  of 
voluntary  debts  to  be  incurred  in  the  future.  This  will, 
to  a  great  extent,  do  away  with  debt,  courts  and  lawyers, 
and  cause  future  business  to  be  done  for  cash. 

"  Third — A  system  of  non-interest-bearing  State  war 
rants  issued  to  each  county,  municipality  and  school  dis 
trict,  made  returnable  to  office  of  State  Auditor,  and 
receivable  for  taxes  anywhere  in  the  State.  These  warrants, 
passing  from  hand  to  hand  in  the  journey  from  the  recip 
ient  to  the  State  Auditor,  will  enable  the  people  to  make 
many  exchanges  free  from  usury,  and  greatly  assist  in  our 
escape  from  the  control  of  the  dealers  in  money. 

"  Fourth — A  homestead  exemption,  by  means  of  which 
a  homestead  in  the  country  or  outside  the  business  portion 
of  our  towns  and  cities,  valued  at  a  sum  not  exceeding  say, 
$2,500,  will  be  free  from  taxation  and  sale  for  debt  con 
tracted  after  the  passage  of  the  1  iw.  In  the  future,  this 
would  absolutely  protect  the  homes  of  the  people. 

"These  are  our  'abolition  laws.'  They  are  for  the 
abolition  of  future  debt.  No  repudiation  of  existing  con 
tracts  is  intended.  In  the  future,  then,  business  would  be 
mainly  done  for  cash.  Small  credits  would  depend  upon 
the  honor  of  the  debtor,  as  is  the  case  to  a  great  extent 
now;  but  the  business  of  debt-making  and  the  extortions 
of  usury  would  come  to  an  end.  These  proposed  laws 
would  abolish  the  special  privileges  given  to  the  managers 
of  money,  by  means  of  which  less  than  five  per  cent,  of  the 
people  are  enabled  to  absorb  the  little  earnings  of  the 
laborer  and  impose  upon  him  and  his  kind  their  luxurious 
support." 


2Q2  1»<>KIN<.    1»K\\AR1>. 

"  It  seem>  to  me,"  said  Maithuid.  "  that  in  this  way 
you  an-  stirrint:  up  strife  between  those  who  should  lie 
t'rionds.  You  invoke  the  assistance  of  law  for  the  farmers 
and  against  business  men." 

"Businessmen!"  said  Graftou,  scornfully,  now  thor 
oughly  aroused ;  "  are  managers  of  trusts,  promoters  of 
fraudulent  enterprises  and  absorbers  of  other  men's  goods 
the  only  people  to  be  called  business  men,  and  are  they  the 
only  people  to  have  the  protection  of  law?  And  even 
though  what  you  say  were  true,  is  it  not  clear  that  these  so- 
called  business  men  have  possessed  themselves  of  the  law- 
making-  power  in  the  past?  \Yheii  was  a  law  passed  in  our 
And  if  one  side  is  1  be  S]  ecially  favored,  who  is 
most  worthy  of  the  protection  of  law  :  the  producer  of  wealth, 
or  he  who  seeks  to  obtain  by  shrewdness  and  chicanery 
what  others  have  painfully  toiled  to  grow  ?  But  we  do  not 
iiher  shall  be  favored;  we  wish  to — and  we  will — 
rid  ourselves  of  the  legal  impositions  of  the  past.  That's  all. 
ut  do  not  be  deceived,  the  new  revolution  is  for  the 
abolition  of  debt.  Old  debts  must  be  paid,  but  the  law  must 
set  it-  .iust  the  formation  of  new  ones.  \Yhoe\er 

sells  property  or  loans  money  in  the  future,  let  him  do  it  at 

wn  risk.  The  law  should  not  guarantee  his  business 
to  be  profitable  any  more  than  the  State  should  make  the 
corn-field  or  the  potato-patch  of  the  fanner  sure  to  yield  a 
certain  number  of  bushels.  Abolish  debt,  and  pay  cash  in 

y  deal.  The  government  can  readily  furnish  the  cur 
rency  to  do  this,  and  only  refrains  from  it  now  at  the  bid 
ding  of  those  AY  ho  secure  slaA*es  by  the  creation  of  debt. 
\Ye  do  not  need  neAv  knvs  so  much  as  the  repeal  of  those 
conferring  privilege.  Take  aAvay  from  the  trade  of  the 
money-grabber  and  debt-maker  the  poAver  of  the  sheriff  and 
court,  or  else  furnish  to  the  farmer  a  /<w<-  comifafns  with 
sufficient  pOAA-er  to  secure  the  groAVth  of  corn  for  365  da\ 
the  year,  and  a  stated  price  at  the  end  of  that  time  from  the 
buyer,  under  penalty  of  loss  of  goods  and  confiscation  of 
property  in  case  of  failure. 


LOOK  IN«,     I  o|;\\  \i;i>.  203 

"  Law  is  now  made  to  _^ive  these  very  advantages  to 
the  dealer  in  money.  Tlu-si-  constitute  special  privile 
with  them  is  created  the  slavery  <>f"  del>t.  The  law  mm 
guarantees  the  banker's  business  to  be  profitable,  if  he  does 
not  go  outside  of  it.  What  folly  !  What  injustice  !  Look 
all  around  you  at  the  results. 

44  Debt  and  the  payment  of"  interest  in  our  modern  world 
make  the  master  and  make  the  slave.  This  is  the  great 
power  which  threatens  humanity  and  which  must  be  slain. 

44  In  the  new  abolition,  the  power  of  the  .State  govern 
ment  will  be  the  lever  which  shall  lift  us  from  the  slough 
of  despond.  Local  self-government  is  the  distinctive  feature 
of  our  republic.  But  for  this,  the  war  of  the  rebellion  would 
have  ended  freedom  upon  this  continent.  A  conquered 
people  were  never  before  reduced  to  subjection  without  an 
enormous  standing  army  was  continued  as  a  guard,  (iene- 
ration  after  generation  but  added  fuel  to  the  flame.  Poland 
still  threatens.  After  centuries  of  government  by  the  sword, 
Ireland  still  longs  for  revenge.  If,  at  the  close  of  our  war, 
the  states  of  the  South  had  been  abolished  and  the  country 
held  as  conquered  territory,  as  was  proposed,  a  million  of 
men  would  still  be  in  arms  to  keep  it  in  subjection.  Grown 
familiar  with  the  control  of  the  general,  military  despotism 
would  soon  have  swallowed  all. 

4<  But,  with  the  power  of  the  State  in  their  hands,  eleven 
miniature  republics,  self-governed  aiid  self-respecting,  at 
once  arose  in  the  South  and  satisfied  the  natural  demand  of 
freemen  for  self-control.  Now  a  foreign  war  would  show 
them  as  loyal  to  the  nation  as  the  states  of  tin-  North. 

44  The  State  governments  saved  our  form  of  government 
in  that  crisis  and  will  do  it  again  in  another.  The}-  form 
the  power  which  would  prevent  the  successful  sei/ure  of  the 
national  government  by  an  ambitious  tyrant.  Their  very 
diversity  of  interests  form  an  additional  security.  Each  is 
a  miniature  nation  in  embryo,  full-formed  and  ready  to  be 
born. 


2O4  LOOKING  FORWARD. 

"  Kansas,  under  the  guidance  of  men  of  nerve,  such  as 
her  early  history  knew ;    men  like  Jim  Lane   and  Ossawat- 
tomie  Brown,  can  and  will  take  the  lead  in  a  new  abolition — 
the  abolition  of  debt. 

"  The  great  danger  of  the  present  is  that  reformers 
may  compromise  the  true  principles  of  action.  An  increase 
in  the  amount  of  money  in  circulation  would  relieve,  for  a 
time,  the  over-burdened  people  ;  but  in  a  few  years,  if  debt,— 
the  cause  of  all  our  woes, — is  allowed  to  live  and  breed,  the 
earth  will  be  covered  with  a  swarming  brood  of  paupers, 
spawned  from  the  hatcheries  of  usury. 

"  Debt  is  the  cause  and  excuse  of  usury  and  usurers. 
Kill  the  dragon  which  continually  sows  among  men  the 
seeds  of  avarice,  hate,  crime,  disease  and  death.  Destroy  at 
one  blow  the  source  of  inequality — usury — accursed  of  God 
and  all  good  men.  Away  with  it,  and  man  will  be  freed 
from  the  yoke  of  bondage.  To  destroy  usury,  kill  the  beast 
which  daily,  hourly  and  momently  is  bringing  it  forth  from 
its  hated  womb.  Prevent  the  possibility  of  debt,  and  the 
mother  of  usury  is  dead,  and  she,  alone,  who  can  bring  it 
forth  will  be  no  more." 

Grafton  had  now  become  thoroughly  aroused.  He 
walked  back  and  forth  in  the  little  cottage,  and  his  eyes 
blazed  with  the  fire  of  his  emotions.  All  this  was  some 
thing  new  to  Maitland  ;  he  had  no  co  mprehension  of  the 
causes  leading  to  Graftoii's  intensity  of  feeling,  and  realiz 
ing  that  under  the  circumstances  he  was  poorly  prepared 
for  argument  with  such  a  man,  he  withdrew  with  the  bes  t 
grace  at  his  command. 


I.ooK  IN'.    KomVAKl).  305 

CHAPTER     XX. 

THK    NKW    ilo.MK. 

AYIN<  <  completed  his  arrange 
ments  Grafton  made  preparations 
to  move  his  children  with  their 
individual  belongings  to  their 
new  home.  Mary  wished  to  defer 
the  matter  till  after  Mr.  Maitland 
had  taken  his  leave,  but  her 
father  would  not  listen  to  the 
thought  of  her  remaining  in 
the  cottage  after  his  departure. 
She  knew  that  when  once  her  father  had  made  up  his  mind 
that  it  would  be  useless  to  argue  the  matter,  and,  accordingly, 
with  heavy  heart  and  many  silent  tears,  Mary  locked  the 
door  of  the  little  home,  where  her  mother  had  breathed  her 
last.  Somehow  it  seemed  to  her  that  here  she  was  nearer 
her  mother  than  elsewhere,  and  reason  as  she  might  about 
the  matter,  she  could  not  but  feel  that  in  leaving  the  cottage 
she  was  removing  herself  farther  away  from  the  silent 
influences  still  proceeding  from  the  dearest  heart  that  had 
ever  fluttered  for  her  in  human  breast.  In  the  hurry  and 
bustle  attending  the  change  of  residence  Grafton  had  largely 
concealed  whatever  of  sorrow  he  may  have  felt.  Just  before 
he  was  to  start  upon  his  journey,  however,  he  called  at  Mr. 
Ellery's  house  for  the  purpose  of  saying  farewell  to  his 
children.  Mrs.  Ellery  was  present,  but  very  considerately 
withdrew.  The  time  was  short,  and  not  much  could  be  said; 
indeed,  he  had  purposely  deferred  the  parting  until  but  a 
short  time  before  the  starting  of  the  train  upon  which  he 
was  to  go.  Taking  Charlie  upon  his  knee,  he  took  a  seat 
near  Mary. 

.  "  Charlie,"  said  he,  "  I  have  only  one  thing  to  tell  you 
in  parting.  It  is  this  :  be  a  good  boy  and  remember  what 
your  sister  tells  you." 


2O6  LOOKINVr     FORWARD. 

"  Now  Mary,"  said  lie,  u  it  isn't  worth  while  for  me  to 
leave  commands  for  you,  but  this  I  hope  you  will  remember: 
Live  your  own  life.  Be  true  to  your  highest  conception  of 
right,  remembering  that  we  have  each  become  a  law  unto 
ourselves.  What  to  you  seems  just  and  true  is  binding 
upon  your  soul,  whether  upon  others  or  not.  I  shall  see 
you  both  frequently,"  said  he,  and  kissing  both  fervently, 
he  was  gone. 

There  had  not  been  time  for  many  tears  or  an  exhibi 
tion  of  deep  feeling,  and  although  both  father  and  daughter 
were  deeply  affected  by  the  separation,  still  it  had  occurred 
quietly  and  without  excitement.  Nor  was  it  until  her  father 
had  gone  and  the  full  meaning  of  the  breaking-up  of  the 
family  came  over  her  that  she  realized  that  one  of  the  turn 
ing  points  of  life  had  now  been  passed — whether  for  good  or 
ill,  was  yet  to  be  determined. 

Retiring  to  her  room  she  gave  herself  up  for  the  time 
to  the  most  somber  reflections.  How  full  of  sorrow  the  last 
few  years  had  been !  The  loss  of  home  and  her  mother's 
untimely  death  again  weighed  heavily  upon  her  mind. 
How  happy  the  home  had  been,  now  destroyed  forever!  For 
the  moment  bitter  thoughts  filled  her  heart.  The  loss  of 
the  home  and  the  consequent  shock,  coming  at  a  time  of 
delicate  health,  had  killed  her  mother.  But  for  the  added 
misery  of  poverty  and  waning  fortune  she  would  have  rallied 
and  recovered.  And  what  were  the  influences  which  had 
brought  all  this  about  ?  Having  mado  a  stud}-  of  these,  she 
was  fully  convinced  that  the  control  of  the  markets  and 
finances  of  the  country  had  so  depressed  the  business  of  the 
farmer  as  to  cause  the  condition  of  affairs  which  had  re 
sulted  in  their  financial  ruin.  And  this,  thought  she,  is  the 
work  of  men  who  claim  the  right  thus  to  destroy  homes  and 
happiness  and  slowly  murder  by  means  of  the  market ! 
Freedom  of  contract, — there  was  none.  That  all  had  an 
equal  chance  in  life  was  a  delusion.  If  mere  weight  .of 
money  was  thus  to  rule,  the  combination  which  secured  the 
larger  sum  controlled  all.  Far  back  in  the  history  of  the 


T,OOKIX<;     FORWARD. 

race  brawn  and  the-  power  of  muscle  were  the  arbiters  of  fate. 
All  were  equal — each  could  use  the  strength  he  had — but 
the  giant  of  the  iron  hand  took  to  himself  whatever  pleased 
his  fancy,  while  petty  cultivators  of  the  ground  could  hide 
when  he  walked  abroad. 

Thus  was  it  now,  except  that  instead  of  muscle,  money 
ruled,  and  cruelty  and  injustice  were  the  results  of  the 
reign  of  both.  When  a  combination  had  been  formed  and 
an  agreement  entered  into  by  the  controllers  of  the  market 
only  to  pay  so  much,  the  farmer  was  told: 

"  We  do  not  compel  you  to  sell  to  us  at  a  stated  price, "- 
well  knowing  that  a  price  had  been  fixed,  beyond  which  he 
could  not  go. 

'  We  do  not  compel  you  to  ship  your  grain  and  stock 
upon  our  railroads,"  say  the  magnates,  well  knowing  that 
the  necessities  of  the  producer  force  him  to  use  the  railway, 
although  half  the  value  of  his  property  be  taken  for  its 
carriage. 

"  If  you  do  not  like  our  charges,  build  you  a  railroad 
to  carry  your  stuff,  or  transport  your  carcass  to  the  city," 
say  the  sharpers  who  have  possessed  themselves  of  the  lines 
of  communication. 

u  You  are  not  compelled  to  borrow  our  money,"  say  the 
ministers  of  Mammon,  well  knowing  that  in  modern  society 
there  is  but  one  thing  which  all  must  have  in  larger  or 
smaller  quantities,  and  having  secured  a  monopoly  of  its 
management,  they  await  the  homage  of  all. 

Thus  ran  her  thoughts,  and  rebellion  rose  within  her 
breast.  With  flashing  eye  and  quick-coming  breath  she 
resolved,  with  her  mother's  fate  before  her,  to  do  whatever 
seemed  possible  to  oppose  giant  and  overpowering  wrong. 
If  rebellion  against  tyranny  was  obedience  to  God,  she 
would  be  a  rebel,  whatever  might  betide. 


It  will  not  be  supposed  that  affairs  at  Mr.  Ellery's  were 
unnoticed  by  the  people  of  Plainville.  All  the.  actual  hap- 
pennings  were  duly  reported,  while  mail}-  events  were 


208  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

discussed  which  it  was  thought  might  possibly  occur.  And 
as  all  were  at  liberty  to  exercise  their  imagination  regarding 
the  future,  the  faculty  was  given  full  pla}^  by  much  the 
larger  share  of  the  villagers. 

One  morning  Mr.  Ellery  found  that  his  horse  had  cast 
a  shoe,  which  must  surely  be  replaced.  Leading  the  animal 
over  to  Mr.  Weldon's  shop,  the  loss  of  the  shoe  was  stated, 
and  the  blacksmith  at  once  set  to  work  to  remedy  the  diffi 
culty.  But  although  Mr.  Hllery  was  employed  in  holding 
the  horse  and  Weldon  in  fitting  the  shoe,  the  minds  of  both 
were  comparatively  unemployed.  It  is  said  that  a  certain 
nnd  unmentionable  personage  finds  work  for  idle  hands  and 
minds  to  do,  and  this  wise  old  saw  probably  includes  in  its 
operations  the  man  of  prayers  and  sermons  as  well  as  the 
common  and  undevout.  However  this  may  be,  the  black 
smith  could  not  refrain  from  at  once  addressing  himself  to 
the  most  interesting  topic  of  conversation  in  all  Plainville. 

u  Pretty  nice  kind  of  a  man  that's  visitin'  you,  ain't  he  ? 
I  believe  he's  a  preacher,  too  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  Maitland  is  a  fine  young  man  of  generous  im 
pulses,  who,  so  far  at  least,  has  not  been  spoiled  by  getting 
fastened  in  a  groove  of  any  kind.  Most  men  run  in  a  groove 
or  rut  of  their  own,  whether  of  business  or  habit  of  mind, 
and  judge  everything  by  its  relation  to  their  particular  line 
of  thought.  This  they  imagine  to  be  very  straight — to 
others  it  appears  crooked  enough — while  but  few  are  of 
sufficient  breadth  of  mind  to  see  that  there  is  good  in  all 
and  that  none  are  perfect." 

'  Well,  he  may  be  an  awful  nice  man,  but  he  ain't  jest 
the  kind  of  a  man  I  would  pick  out  for  Mary  Grafton,"  said 
the  blacksmith,  breaking  at  once  into  the  topic  which  inter 
ested  him  most. 

"  Well,  I  am  not  aware  that  anybody  is  '  picking  him 
out',''  said  the  preacher,  rather  coolly. 

"  Yes,  I  know ;  but  then  you  see  folks  doesn't  have  to 
be  knocked  down  with  a  hint  before  they  take  it.  Now, 
Mary  was  always  a  favorite  with  our  Plainville  people,  and 


LOOK  I  NT,     FORWARD.  209 

they  don't  quite  fancy  bavin'  this  Boston  feller  come  out 
here  and  carry  off  the  sweetest  flower  in  the  whole  garden. 
It  kinder  sets  them  agin  him,  you  know.'' 

"  Maitland  isn't  from  Boston,  and  I  don't  know  that  he 
has  any  idea  of  carrying  off  our  flower.  So  Plainville  peo 
ple  are  altogether  too  fast." 

"  The  blacksmith  apparently  paid  no  attention  to  the 
cold  water  which  Mr.  Ellery  seemed  disposed  to  throw  upon 
the  discussion,  and  continued:  u  Now,  Mary  always  put  me 
in  mind  of  one  of  them  high-strung  Kentucky  mares  that 
we  occasionally  see ;  pretty  as  a  picture,  high  head,  arched 
neck',  curved  and  pointed  ears,  big,  clear-looking  eyes,  knows 
everything,  can  do  anything,  and  willing  to  do  it,  too,  if  you 
only  treat  'em  right;  but  for  all  they  are  so  bidable  and 
easy  managed,  and  sweet-tempered,  jest  you  go  to  beatin' 
and  abusin'  one  of  that  kind  and  see  if  something  don't  get 
l>roke,  right  away  quick.'' 

"  That's  rather  a  rough  simile,"  said  the  preacher,  "but 
I  don't  know  but  it  is  somewhere  near  the  truth.'' 

"  Course  it  is  near  the  truth  ;  it's  right  at  it.  Now, 
Mary  might  go  through  life  without  anybody  ever  knowin' 
the  spirit  there  is  in  that  girl,  if  she  wasn't  mis-used.  But 
if  she  really  was,  she'd  know  it,  and  I'm  inclined  to  think 
you  couldn't  strike  that  steel  without  some  sparks  a-flyinV 

"  The  great  poet  has  said  that  "  Hell  hath  no  fury  like 
a  woman  scorned',"  said  Mr.  Ellery;  "  though  I  rather  think 
that  passage  would  be  considered  a  good  example  of  hyper 
bole;  an  exaggeration  of  the  truth!  " 

"Kind  of  high  example,  you  think?  Well,  I  don't 
know;  if  I  was  that  mean  that  I  really  did  deserve  to  be 
scorned  by  Mary  Grafton,  I'd  rather  see  the  devil  than  have 
her  tell  me  what  she  thought  of  me." 

The  shoe  was  soon  set,  and  Mr.  Ellery  was  rather  glad 
to  seize  the  opportunity  to  break  off  a  conversation  which  it 
occurred  to  him  was  becoming  too  personal  in  its  nature. 

The  unexpected  visit  of  Mr.  Maitland  to  Kansas,  the 
interest  shown  bv  him  in  Mary  Grafton  and  the  circum- 


210  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

stances  which  had  conspired,  by  prior  arrangement,  to  throw 
them  together  at  Mr.  Ellery's,  formed  a  topic  which  was 
strangely  interesting  to  all.  Busteed  had  early  interviewed 
Air.  Ellery  regarding  the  reported  wealth  of  the  stranger> 
and  had  queried  whether  it  would  be  possible  co  induce  him 
to  invest  in  Plainville  property,  or  whether  he  could  influ 
ence  the  sending  out  of  "cheap  money"  to  his  bank,  which 
could  be  re-loaned  by  him  at  heavier  rates. 

Mr.  Ellery  explained  that  Maitland  was  a  student  of 
men  and  things,  that  he  was  dependent  for  a  support  upon 
his  father,  who  was  a  manufacturer  of  cotton  in  a  Massa 
chusetts  town,  and  not  a  loaner  of  money.  Busteed,  how 
ever,  could  not  understand  why  he  should  be  traveling  over 
the  country,  unless  he  was  looking  for  a  place  to  exercise 
his  calling  as  a  preacher,  or  had  an  eye  open  to  uthe  main 
chance."  That  a  man  should  travel  merely  with  the  idea  of 
studying  nature  and  human  nature,  w#s  something  beyond 
his  comprehension. 

People,  generally,  in  the  village  with  whom  Maitland 
had  come  in  contact  regarded  him  as  a  very  companionable 
sort  of  a  man,  and  a  very  good  kind  of  a  man,  indeed — for  a 
preacher.  Preachers,  however,  for  the  most  part,  were  re 
garded  as  lacking  in  those  very  indefinable  qualities  which 
they  summed  up  under  the  head  of  "  manhood."  Of  course,, 
they  were  well  enough  in  their  way  ;  but  that,  as  a  class „ 
they  w'ere  lacking  in  a  very  important  element  of  character> 
was  quite  generally  conceded  by  implication  and  general 
understanding.  This  general  agreement  was  never  obstru- 
sively  stated  in  words;  still,  the  fact  was  apparent  in  the 
daily  life  of  the  community.  It  was  felt  that  in  the  services, 
of  the  church  and  at  "sociables,"  festivals  and  in  the  direc 
tion  of  Sunday-schools  and  the  like,  that  the  preacher  could 
not  be  spared  ;  that  was  his  place ;  but  in  the  real  life  and 
business  of  the  world,  which  employed  six-sevenths  of  their 
time  and  ninety-nine  hundredths  of  their  thoughts,  he  had 
no  place,  whatever.  In  fact,  it  was  felt  that  his  advice  upon 
important  matters,  outside  of  his  special  department,  was  in. 


LOOK  INC,     FORWARD.  211 

the  nature  of  an  impertinence  not  to.  be  endured.  They 
\\t-iv  willing  enough  to  listen  to  doctrines,  embellished 
with  scriptural  quotations,  but  they  must  not  lie  applied 
to  the  lives  of  people  now  on  earth,  unless  they  lived  at  a 
remote  distance  from  the  speaker  and  his  hearers.  It  was 
felt,  rather  than  stated,  that  the  preachers  didn't  dare  tell 
their  congregations  just  what  they  thought  of  them  and 
their  conduct  in  the  daily  husiness  of  life.  The  congre 
gation  on  its  part  feeling  the  force  of  this  and  the  lack  of 
moral  courage  which  prompted  it,  could  not  fail  to  see  that 
the  supreme  quality  in  man,  respected  in  all  and  hy  all, 
was  very  conspicuous  hy  reason  of  its  ahsence  in  the 
characters  of  a  very  large  numher  of  those  who  were  called 
upon  to  declare  the  whole  counsel  of  <  iod. 

That  Maitland  should  remain  in  IMainville  seemed  to 
the  inhahitants  of  that  village  the  most  natural  thing  in 
the  world.  Where  wo^ild  he  find  a  nicer  little  village  than 
theirs,  or  where  could  he  find  a  pleasanter  place  than  the 
house  of  Mr.  Kllery  for  a  visit,  with  its  kind  and  motherly 
hostess  and  most  attractive  occupant?  That  his  visit 
would  have  heen  sooner  concluded  had  he  not  met  Mary, 
was  bcgi nnin<_r  to  dawn  upon  Maitland's  own  comprehen 
sion.  Still,  he  was  not  aware  that  so  deep  an  impression 
had  been  made  upon  himself,  as  to  the  Hllerys  appeared 
manifest.  He  was  interested  in  Miss  (Irafton, — he  was 
willing  to  acknowledge  that  to  himself. — and  he  thought 
that  if  she  could  only  abandon,  what  he  was  disposed  to 
regard  as  some  very  peculiar  views,  that  she  would  then 
be  quite  well-informed  and  mentally  well-furnished.  As  it 
was,  the  holding  of  these  views  so  strenuously  as  she  did, 
made  quite  an  unfavorable  impression  upon  him.  Mary, 
upon  her  part,  held  much  the  same  view  of  the  character 
of  the  young  preacher.  If  he  could  only  change  his  no 
tions  regarding  economic  matters  and  adopt  what  she 
regarded  as  correct  views,  he  would  then  he  in  position  to 
be  of  great  service  in  the  world.  Each  had  endeavored  to 
convince  the  other  of  error,  and  in  their  frequent  discus- 


212  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

sions  the  apparent  advantage  had  nearly  always  been  with 
Marv,  because  she  spoke  of  what  she  was  familiar  with, 
Avhile  Maitland,  never  having  given  special  attention  to 
matters  of  that  sort,  was  but  poorly  prepared  for  an  argu 
ment. 

One  day,  after  he  had  stated  at  some  length  his  j>ecu- 
liar  opinions.  Mary  said: 

''  You  know,  Mr.  Maitland,  that  the  law  of  heaven  as 

proclaimed  to  Adam  and  Eve.  when  thev  were  shut  out 
j.  > 

from  Paradise,  was  the  law  of  labor — 'In  the  sweat  of  thy 
face  shalt  thou  eat  bread.'  That,  I  take  it.  applies  to  all 
mankind.  All  must  labor  or  render  acceptable  service, 
and  the  laws  of  nature  enforce  the  command.  Some,  how 
ever,  escape;  but  no  one  ever  escapes,  or  ever  lias  escaped, 
without  throwing  the  burden  of  the  labor  thus  evaded 
upon  the  shoulders  of  others.  Now,  in  your  own  individual 
case  your  father  has  saved  you  the-  necessity  of  labor,  so 
far  at  least:  but  upon  whom  has  the  burden  of  your  life 
been  placed,  if  not  upon  the  operatives  whom  he  employs? 
The  profits  of  their  labor,  which  he  has  been  enabled  to 
absorb,  form  the  support  upon  which  you  depend.  You 
do  not  labor  because  an  extra  share  has  been  imposed 
upon  them." 

"  What  you  say,"  said  he,  '•  no  doubt  is  true  in  a  cer 
tain  sense,  but  you  must  remember  that  societv,  with  all 
its  vast  gains  and  improvements,  exists  upon  a  basis  which 
the  literal  carrying  out  of  your  opinions  would  destroy. 
All  progress,  all  improvement  in  the  future,  depend  upon 
the  further  spread  of  a  civilization  which  vou  would  make 
impossible.  If  all  labored,  no  time  would  be  left  for 
thought  and  mental  advance.  Where  all  are  equally  poor, 
in  time  all  become  equally  ignorant;  leisure  to  think  and 
plan  is  the  very  first  step  in  the  march  of  progress.  Your 
thought,  allow  me  to  say,  is  crude,  in  that  it  subordinates 
the  higher  to  the  lower.  Society  has  a  right  to  exist,  if  it 
stands  for  the  final  advancement,  of  mankind,  as  I  believe 
it  does;  and  this  being  the  case,  whatever  is  absolutely 


LOOKINC,     FORWARD.  213 

essential  t<>  this  advance  must  be  defended  against  the 
assaults  of  those  who  would  only  destroy  without  supply 
ing  anything  but  mere  savagery  and  brutism  to  take  its 
place.'' 

••  You  have  undertaken,  Mr.  Maiiland.  as  a  preacher 
t<»  take  up  your  cross  and  follow  Christ.  Following  Christ 
J  take  to  mean  a  service  of  the  truth — to  follow  wherever 
it  leads.  The  disciples  had  promised  to  follow  Christ,  and 
so  they  did  up  to  the  iime  of  His  arrest.  Peter,  especially, 
had  vehemently  announced  that  he  would  follow  though 
all  should  forsake  Him.  hut  when  ho  saw  the  Savior 
apprehended  and  in  the  custody  of  the  soldiers,  he,  too, 
began  to  think  of  the  rights  of  society,  and  when  one  of 
the  maids  came  into  the  outer  court  and  saw  him  there, 
she  said:  'Ami  thou  also  wast  with  Jesus  of  Galilee,' but 
he  denied;  .social  forms. 'law  and  order.'  must  be  preserved 
<  ven  though  Christ  died.  Peter  was  willing  to  follow  until 

he  came  in  contact   with   the   law  and   the    soldiers.      You 

i 

are  willing  to  follow  the  truth  until  yon  come  in  contact 
with  tlie  labor  ijuestion,  then  you  deny  that  simple  truth 
is  to  be  followed,  and  take  refuge  in  generalities  and  the 
/igl.ts  of  society,  which,  when  inquired  into,  seem  to  be 
the  right  of  the  strong  to  impose  themselves  and  their 
improvements  upon  those  weaker  brethren  who  appear 
unable  to  help  themselves.  The  essence  of  all  this  is 
simple  selfishness,  the  very  opposite  of  the  spirit  of  true 
Christianity  and  impossible  of  defense.  Civilization  will 
t;ike  care  of  itself. — it  will  not  perish;  let  us  do  right! 
Surely,  the  self-styled  upper  classes  have  no  right  to  exist 
hy  defrauding  the  poor  and  the  weak." 

"  In  the  decision  of  any  matter  involving  a  question 
of  right  and  wrong,"  said  Maitland,  "  we  are  obliged  to 
take  into  account  the  character  of  the  people  who  make 
answer.  In  a  question  of  morals,  moral  men  would  make 
one  answer,  immoral  men  another.  This  is  a  question  of 
right  and  wrong,  and  in  seeking  an  answer  we  can  do  no 
better  than  to  foliovr  the  lead  of  the  church.  What  it  con- 


214  LOOK  IXC,     FORWARD. 

dems,  we  may  consider  as  against  the  better  judgment  of 
mankind;  what  it  allows,  we  are  somewhat  arrogant  in 
opposing." 

"  The  church  has  so  often  been  at  fault,"  said  Mary, 
'  it  seems  scarcely  necessary  to  call  attention  to  its  ex- 
.treme  fallibility,  but  I  have  at  hand  so  marked  an  instance 
of  this,  that  please  allow  me  to  read.  As  the  church  has 
often  been  opposed  to  the  principles  of  human  brotherhood 
taught  by  Jesus,  it  is  not  at  all  strange  to  find  it  now  upon 
the  side  of  the  oppressor. 

Taking  a  book  from  the  table,  she  read  as  follows: 

"  It  is  less  than  two  centuries  since  seven  men,  of  the 
highest  standing,  a  majority  of  whom  were  reverend  gen 
tlemen, — clergymen, — as  good  and  pious  men  as  ever  lived, 
as  exemplary  in  every  relation  of  life  as  it  was  possible  for 
men  to  be,  sat  in  so-called  court  of  justice,  each  morning 
whereof  was  opened  with  fervent  prayer  to  the  divine 
source  of  all  knowledge,  grace  and  power,  to  direct  the 
actions  of  his  servants  as  the  judges  of  that  court;  and  in 
that  court  were  arraigned,  day  after  day,  poor,  miserable, 
broken-down,  superstitious  women  and  children  upon  the 
accusation  that  they  had  commerce  with  the  devil  and 
used  his  power  as  a  means  of  spite  upon  their  neighbors, 
and  as  one  of  the  means  of  inflicting  torture  because 
thereof  the  devil  had  empowered  these  poor  creatures  to 
shoot  common  house  pins  from  a  distance  into  the  flesh  of 
their  neighbors'  children,  by  which  they  were  greatly 
afflicted.  Being  put  to  the  bar  to  be  tried,  they  were  not 
allowed  counsel.  The  deluded  creatures  sometimes  pleaded 
guilty,  and  sometimes  not  guilty,  but  in  either  event* they 
were  found  guilty  and  executed,  and  the  pins  \vrhich  were 
produced  in  evidence,  can  now  be  seen  among  the  records 
of  that  court,  in  the  court-house  of  the  county  of  Essex, 
Massachusetts ! 

"And  beyond  all  this  that  court  enforced, — worse  than 
the  tortures  of  the  Inquisition, — dreadful  wrongs  upon  a 
prisoner  in  order  to  accomplish  his  conviction.  Giles 
Corey  was  an  old  man,  80  years  of  age.  He  had  a  daugh 
ter  some  40  years  of  age,  simple-minded,  not  able  to  earn 
her  own  living,  and  a  small  farm,  a  piece  of  land  and  a 
house  thereon,  which  he  hoped  to  leave  to  his  daughter  at 


LMOKINC,  FORWARD.  215 

liis  tln-ii  impending  death,  (iiles  wa>  accused  of  being  a 
wizard.  His  life  liad  been  blameless  in  everything  except 
his  supposed  commerce  with  the  devil.  I'pon  c.v  fmrtr 
testimony  lie  was  indicted  for  this  too  great  intimacy  with 
the  evil  one  and  set  to  the  bur  to  he  tried  tor  his  life. 

"  (  tiles  knew  that  if  he  pleaded  not  guilty  he  was  sure 
to  he  convicted,  and  if  lie  pleaded  guilty  he  would  be  sen 
tenced  to  death,  and  in  either  case  the  farm  would  be 
forfeited  to  the  king.  lUit  it'  he  did  not  plead  at  all — such 
was  the  law — then  he  could  not  be  tried  at  all,  and  his 
property  could  not  he  forfeited  to  the  king  and  taken  from 
his  daughter.  So  (iiles  stood  mute,  and  put  the  court  at 
defiance. 

"And  then  that  court  of  pious  clergymen  resorted  to  a 
method  to  make  him  plead  which  had  not  been  in  practice 
in  Kngland  for  L'no  years,  and  never  here:  and  poor  Giles 
was  taken  and  laid  on  the  ground  by  the  side  of  the  court 
house  on  his  back,  with  the  Hashing  sun  burning  in  his 
eyes,  and  a  -ingle  cup  of  water  from  the  ditch  of  the  jail, 
with  a  crust  of  bread,  was  given  him  once  in  twenty-four 
hours,  and  weights  were  placed  upon  his  body  until  at  last 
life  was  crushed  out  of  him.  but  not  the  father's  love  for 
his  child.  He  died,  but  not  until  his  parched  tongue  pro 
truded  from  the  old  man's  fevered  mouth.  It  was  thrust 
back  by  the  chief  justice  with  his  cane.  The  cherished 
< laughter  inherited." 

"Isn't  that  frightful?  And  yet,  Mr.  Maitland,  all 
this  was  the  doing  of  the  very  New  Kngland  church  to 
•which  you  belong.  You  will  tell  me  that  this  took  place 
in  an  ignorant  age  and  yet  your  church  policy  and  even 
the  creed  itself  was  formed  in  those  very  ignorant  times. 
If  the  church  was  mistaken  then  in  matters  which  involve 
our  common  humanity,  why  may  not  it  also  have  been 
mistaken  in  other  things?  And  if  this  be  admitted,  how 
can  it  claim  to  be  entitled  to  our  reverence  in  matters  of 
belief  which  contradict  our  reason  and  the  compassionate 
dictates  of  our  hearts  when  moved  by  the  sorrows  and 
necessities  of  the  poor  and  the  unfortunate?  How  can  the 
judgment  of  men  like  those  I  have  been  reading  of  control 


2l6 


LOOKING    FORWARD. 


our  action,  to-day?  Oh,  no,  Mr.  Maitland,  the  God  within 
is  a  far  better  instructor  than  those  mouldy  '  traditions  of 
the  elders'  to  which  you  now  fly  for  light." 


LOOKING    FORWARD. 


219 


CHAPTER    XX  I. 

GLIMPSES    OK    CHARACTER. 

OPING   for   change,  one  may  travel  far, 
only  to   find  that  he,  himself,  has  not 
been  left  behind.     That  perception 
'S       which  makes,  for  us,  facts,  opinions 
and    circumstances,    has    not    been 
educated  or  reformed  by  mere   removal. 
With  Maitland  the  fight  was  on. 
Added  to  the  mental  struggle,  which, 
beginning,  with  him,  in  doubt  of  certain 

tenets  of  a  religious  faith,  was  now  leading  him  to  revu-xv 
from  the  beginning  the  'whole  ground-work  of  the  duty  of 
man,  was  the  newer  complication  of  an  awakening  love. 
Neither  birth  or  breeding  nor  the  lack  of  them,  can  hide  the 
superior  soul.  It  looks  calmly  forth  from  the  eyes  of  man 
or  woman,  in  whatever  station  found,  and  without  demand 
ing,  receives  the  homage  of  kindred  spirits.  Never  before 
had  he  been  so  toni  by  conflicting  emotions !  Rights,  du 
ties,  hopes  and  fears,  took  on  new  shapes,  and  new  thoughts 
arose.  He  found  in  Mary  Grafton  a  something  which  IK- 
could  not  define,  an  attraction  which  he  could  not  under 
stand,  and  as  he  queried  with  himself  regarding  it,  he  awoke 
to  the  fact  that  disguise  it  as  he  might,  the  influence  which 
she  exerted  caused  him  ever  to  strive  for  that  higher  ex 
pression  of  himself  for  which  his  own  better  moments 
longed.  There  seemed  in  her  presence  a  stimulation  to 
which  heretofore  he  had  been  a  stranger.  That  this  was 
true  he  could  not  deny,  and  yet  how  it  came  about  he  could 
not  comprehend.  That  a  country  girl,  with  but  two  years' 
experience  of  life  away  from  her  modest  home,  and  those 
years  passed  in  a  subordinate  capacity;  self-taught,  the 
pupil  only  of  a  father  whose  own  education  was  limited, 
should  question  the  existence,  off-hand,  of  the  very  things 
he  had  begun,  only  after  years  of  scrutiny,  to  doubt,  amazed 
him.  And  yet  every  manifestation  of  her  thought  was 


220  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

reverent  and  tended  toward  final  good,  to  which  she  looked 
forward  with  calm  and  perfect  confidence.  He  could  not 
fail  to  love  her  for  this.  Did  he  love  her  for  herself? 
Deeply  questioned,  his  heart  returned  but  one  reply.  But, 
as  he  thought,  difficulties  arose  and  arranged  themselves  i.u 
threatening  ranks.  Their  opinions  seemed  ever  to  jar;  the 
end  desired  was  agreed  upon,  but  the  means  to  be  used  in 
attainment  divided  them.  Several  times  he  had  been  upon 
the  point  of  declaring  himself  in  sentimental  terms,  but  as 
if  warned  by  an  unknown  power,  she  had  kept  him  at  bay. 
Did  she,  in  this  manner,  conceal  a  tender  regard  ?  Win- 
was  it  that  with  him  she  showed  none  of  that  tenderness 
and  depth  of  feeling  manifested  toward  others  ?  Might  it 
be  possible  that  she  divined  the  shallowness  and  lack  of 
mental  furnishing  of  which  he  sometimes  accused  himself  ? 
Could  he  win  her  love  ? 

Strange  as  he  thought  it,  he  was  obliged  to  confess  to 
himself  that  he  feared  to  make  the  attempt.  He  had  never 
detected  in  her  manner  anything  which  would  encourage 
him  to  make  an  avowal,  and,  although  he  told  himself  again 
and  again  that  a  woman  of  spirit  would  quite  naturally 
demand  to  be  won  in  bold  and  chivalrous  fashion  and  would 
shun  the  appearance  of  falling  unresistingly  into  the  arms 
of  any  man;  still  he  put  off  from  day  to  day  what  he  gradu 
ally  came  to  think  must  be  done.  And  as  this  feeling 
strengthened,  he  came  more  and  more  to  see  that  her  life 
was  the  proper  complement  of  his  own.  With  her,  he  should 
improve.  There  was  that  dissimilarity  of  character  be 
tween  them  which,  united,  would  form  a  perfect  whole. 
Each  could  assist  the  other,  and  if  he  could  awake  for  him 
self  that  slumbering  tenderness  which  he  knew  existed  in 
her ;  ah,  that  would  be  happiness,  indeed  !  Still,  strive  as 
he  would,  and  did,  to  find  opportunity  for  the  expression  of 
the  tender  passion,  she  was  ever,  apparently,  on  guard,  and 
with  clear,  wide-open  eyes  and  collected  manner,  made  it 
impossible  for  him  to  speak,  except  in  the  plainest  terms 
and  without  assistance  from  her. 


LOOK  INC.     I'ORWAKl).  221 

What  was  to  be  clone?  He  was  ashamed  of-himself,  of 
me  length  of  his  visit,  of  his  laek  of  courage  ;  and  fairly 
ashamed,  too,  of  the  shame  he  felt,  and  began  to  wonder 
whether  his  friends,  the  Ellerys,  might  not  be  ashamed  of 
him,  alsc. 

Several  times  he  had  planned  to  speak  to  Mary  upon 
the  subject  nearest  his  heart,  but  each  time  something  had 
occurred  to  prevent.  At  last,  nerved  by  desperation,  he 
gave  out  that  on  the  morrow  he  would  take  his  departure 
for  California.  As  yet,  he  had  never  been  able  to  declare 
himself,  but  realizing  that  indecision  itself  had  already- 
reached  its  climax,  he  resolved  to  tempt  his  fate  as  became, 
—what  he  had  come  to  think  of  himself, — a  very  sheepish 
sort  of  man. 

That  evening,  finding  himself  alone  in  the  parlor  with 
Marv,  the  latter  made  some  excuse  to  depart  and  had  al 
ready  nearly  reached  the  door  when  he  found  tongue  to  say: 

"  Wait  a  moment,  Miss  (Irafton;  I  really  have  sonu-- 
thing  to  say  to  you  !  " 

Mary  had  by  this  time  reached  the  door,  and  stood 
expectantly  waiting,  with  one  hand  upon  the  door-knob. 

'  You  must  have  seen  that  my  regard  for  yon  is  some 
thing  more  than  the  ordinary  respect  which  a  gentleman 
may  have  for  a  lady,''  said  he,  coming  towards  her. 

Releasing  her  hold  upon  the  door,  Mary  immediately 
seated  herself  upon  a  chair,  and  waving  her  hand  towards 
another,  Maitland  was  forced  to  do  the  same. 

"  In  short,"  said  he,  "  I  wish  to  make  an  avowal.  I 
have  long  loved  you — at  least  it  seems  a  long  time — and 
although  you  have  never  given  me  an  encouraging  look,  I 
can  but  hope  that  you  will  now  look  encouragingly  upon 
me.  Will  you  marry  me  ?  '' 

For  the  moment  her  eyes  sought  the  floor,  and  Mait- 
land  continued  : 

"  You  don't  know  how  sincere  I  am  in  this  matter— 
you  can't  know  that — and  yet  my  hopes  are  bound  up  in 


222  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

your  answer.  I  have  never  met  anyone  whom  I  could  so 
completely  love  and  reverence  as  I  do  you.  And— 

"  Mr.  Maitland,'*  said  Mary,  "  you  certainly  have  hon 
ored  me  by  your  proposal  and  I  thank  you  for  the  preference 
shown,  but  your  own  good  sense  will,  upon  second  thought, 
show  you  plainly  that  in  this  you  have  made  a  mistake. 
You  have  been  in  exile,  almost,  for  some  time  past,  and 
being  thrown  much  in  my  company  of  late,  you  have  been 
moved  to  make  an  avowal.  I  must  say  firmly  and  plainly 
that  what  you  ask  can  not  be.  I  have  certain  duties  to  my 
father  and  little  brother  which  I  can  not  relinquish,  and 
even  though  — 

Maitland  would  have  interrupted  her,  but  she  continued; 

"  Please  hear  me  through,  because  this  is  a  subject 
which  must  not  be  re-opened,  even  though  these  objections 
could  be  removed,  although  I  do  not  think  it  possible,  still 
there  are  other  and  even  more  insurmountable  ones  which 
would  prevent.  Consider  the  difference  in  our  lives  :  how 
unlike  they  are  and  have  been,  and  must  be  in  the  future." 

"Miss  Grafton,''  said  he,  "perhaps  I  have  been  too 
rash  in  speaking  so  soon  as  I  have,  although  I  have  charged 
myself  with  cowardice  in  not  speaking  before,  still  you  will 
not  utterly  refuse  me.  I  am  an  honorable  man  ;  no  person 
can  say  aught  against  my  character ;  and  I  love  you !  If  I 
am  not  positively  disagreeable  to  you,  don't  cast'  me  off; 
give  me  leave  to,  hope.  I  am  going  to  California  to-morrow. 
I  ma}-  not  remain  there  long.  Only  say  that  your  refusal 
is  not  absolute  and  final !  " 

"  I  prefer,"  said  she,  speaking  very  slowly  and  with 
evident  feeling,  "  not  to  discuss  this  matter  further.  What 
I  have  said  is  my  final  answer.  We  have  been  very  good 
friends  and  I  hope  our  friendship  will  not  be  interrupted." 

Just  at  this  juncture,  Mrs.  Ellery,  not  suspecting  that 
she  was  interrupting,  came  into  the  room  and  made  an 
inquiry  regarding  Mr  Maitland's  departure,  which  being 
answered,  she,  probably  suspecting  from  the  appearance  of 


LOOKING   FORWARD. 


223 


the  ''  young  folks"  that  matters  of  moment  were  under 
discussion,  immediately  retired. 

"  My  father  writes  me,"  said  Mary,  "  that  he  is  having 
most  encouraging  success  wherever  he  goes.  All  seem  to 
approve  the  plans  which  he — and  I — have  so  much  at  heart, 
and  I  do  hope,  Mr.  Maitland,  that  you  will  see,  when  you 
have  examined  into  it,  that  he  is  as  fully  doing,  what  you 
preachers  are  wont  to  call  l  the  Lord's  work/  and  that  he  is 
as  thoroughly  devoted  to  the  welfare  of  his  fellow-men  as 
any  knight  or  martyr  of  old,  could  be  or  ever  was.  My  fa 
ther  is  a  grand  man,  a  true  man  ;  his  moral  courage  is 
sublime;  and,  although  poor  and  almost  unknown,  I  would 
rather  share  his  lot  and  fate,  whatever  it  may  be,  than  wear 
a  coronet  to  which  I  was  not  entitled,  or  live  upon  the 
wealth  for  which  others  toiled  and  spent  days  and  nights  of 
grievious  sorrow.  ' 

Mary's  eyes  filled  with  tears,  but  her  voice  did  not 
falter,  as  she  continued:  '  Myself  and  little  brother  are  all 
that  is  left  to  my  father ;  we  form  the  tie  which  binds  him 
to  life.  He  is  not  demonstrative,  but  a  truer  heart  never 
beat.  For  us  he  would  sacrifice, — has  sacrificed, — ease  and 
comfort,  and  I  will  never  forsake  him  or  follow  any  course 
which  might  cause  him  to  feel  that  in  his  old  age  he  was 
neglected  or  forsaken.  He  has  plans  which  are  far-reaching, 
and  from  their  success  we  hope  for  much  good.  These 
plans  and  the  hopes  which  they  have  inspired,  have  taken 
complete  possession  of  him,  and  in  the  work  which  he  has 
undertaken  he  is  wholly  enlisted  with  an  earnest  desire  to 
benefit  his  fellows.  What  higher  motive,  Mr.  Maitland, 
can  actuate  the  human  soul  ?  " 


224 


LOOKFNC    FORWARD. 

CHAPTER    XX  Ti. 

I'LAINVII.LK 


AITLAND  departed  rather  sor 
rowfully  and  with  evident  regret. 
Somehow,  the  man  had  under 
gone  a  change  and  a  troubled 
look  had  settled  upon  his  face  as 
he  bade  farewell  to  the  friends  he 
had  made.  Mary  gave  him  no 
opportunity  for  the  private  inter 

view  which  he  had  inwardly  hoped  to  secure.     More   grave 
and  reserved  than  usual,   she  still    quite  cordially  took  his 
hand  in  parting,  while  he   found    opportunity  to  say  : 
"May  I  write?" 

"  Certainly,"  said  she,  "  I  shall  be  pleased  to  hear  from 
you,  wherever  you  go." 

*'  But  will  you  answer  ?  " 
"  Yes  ;  I  surely  could  not  refuse." 

That  was  all  ;  the  train  moved.  off,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Ellery  and  Mar}',  who  were  at  the  depot  to  see  him  off, 
slowly  retraced  their  steps  toward  their  home.  The  house 
appeared  lonesome  and  forsaken  as  they  approached. 
Entering,  the}'  removed  their  wraps  and  sat  down.  They 
looked  at  one  another  for  a  moment  in  silence. 

u  Really,  it  seems  almost  like  a  funeral,"  said  Mr.  El 
lery,  glancing,  as  he  spoke,  at  Mary. 

Mary  made  no  reply,  but  hastily  gathering  up  her  shawl 
and  bonnet,  went  at  once  to  her  room.  When  she  had 
gone,  Mr.  Ellery  said  :  ''Did  George  offer  himself  do  you 
think?" 

"  I  think  he  did,"  said  Mrs.  Ellery,  quite  cautiously, 
"  but  I  am  not  sure.  Evidently  there  was  something  which 
occurred  to  change  the  current  of  feeling  between  them. 
They  both  took  great  pleasure  in  the  conversations  which 
they  were  constantly  holding  whenever  opportunity  offered, 


UNCLE  BILL  WELDON 


I.OOKINV,   FORWARD.  227 

almost  to  the  last.  I  think,  however,  that  I  interrupted 
conversation  of  a  peculiar  kind  yesterday.  Afterward,  both 
were  quite  shy  and  reserved.'' 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Ellery,  "it  is  something  with  which 
we  have  no  right  to  interfere." 

"  Oh  no,"1  said  she,  "  not  for  the  world  !  They  nnist  be 
free  to  act  for  themselves.  I  did  think,  though,  that  they 
were  made  for  each  other." 

Gradually,  affairs  took  on  their  wonted  and  rather 
monotonous  appearance  in  Plainville.  Mary  went  daily  to 
her  classes,  accompanied  by  Charlie,  who  was  one  of  her 
pupils  ;  and  the  village  gradually  came  to  forget  the  fine- 
looking  young  preacher  who  had  been  for  a  time  the  center 
of  attraction  and  the  subject  of  conversation. 

Mr.  Grafton  was  heard  of  from  week  to  week  as  he 
pursued  his  work,  and  tidings  came  that  he  and  the  other 
11  lecturers  "  who  had  been  dispatched  on  the  same  errand 
were  meeting  with  great  success  in  the  work  of  inducing 
united  action  on  the  part  of  the  farmers'  organizations. 
The  effort  thus  made  had  for  its  end  the  adoption  of  u  the 
demands  "  by  the  farmers,  to  which  they  were  to  commit 
themselves.  Political  animosities,  with  them,  took  on  so 
great  a  virulence,  that  it  was  impossible  to  advocate  the 
claims  of  one  part\  without  securing  the  hatred  and  lasting 
dislike  of  all  opposing  factions,  and  the  attempt  was  made 
to  inculate  a  course  of  action  within  the  limits  of  all  political 
parties,  and  no  favoritism  was  to  be  shown  to  either  or  any. 

Bright  and  early  one  morning,  Tom  Jones  drew  up  in 
front  of  Weldon's  blacksmith  shop;  a  plow  was  in  the  lum 
ber  wagon.  Coming  to  a  halt  in  front  of  the  open  door,  he 
turned  half  way  round  upon  the  rough  board  seat,  and 
putting  one  foot  over  the  side  of  the  wagon-box,  rested  it 
upon  the  front  wheel.  Weldon  came  to  the  door,  and  plac 
ing  one  smutty  hand  high  up  on  its  side,  saluted  the  farmer 
with  :  "  Hello,  Tom !  what  are  you  settin'  up  there  fer  ?  " 

u  Can  you  fix  my  plow,  to-day  ?    Got  to  have  it  right  off.'' 


228  LOOKING  FORWARD. 

"Why,  what's  your  sweat?7'  said  Weldon,  coming 
forward. 

"  Oh,  I'm  busy;   got  to  have  it.'' 

"  Busy,  are  ye  ?"  said  Weldon,  as  he  pulled  the  plow 
around,  that  he  might  see  what  was  needed.  u  Busy,  eh  ; 
well,  does  it  do  ye  any  good  to  be  busy  ?  " 

"  Don't  know  as  it  does,  but  then  I  keep  pegging  away.''* 

"  Why,  you  are  'bout  like  the  man  I  heard  of  yester 
day  ;  you  see,  he  had  the  salt  rheum  and  a  Waterbury 
watch,  and  when  he  was  n't  scratching,  he  was  winding  that 
watch  ;  he  always  kept  busy;  I  don't  know,  though,  as  he 
got  much  ahead." 

44  Well,"  said  Jones,  laughing.  "  I'd  as  soon  scratch  and 
wind  a  Waterbury  as  to  run  around  the  country  talkin'  poli 
tics,  as  some  of  'em  do." 

u  I  tell  you  what's  the  matter  with  you,  Tom.  You 
don't  pay  enough  attention  to  politics  to  know  when  you  are 
being  hurt.  Here,  help  me  drag  this  plow  in,"  and  suiting 
the  action  to  the  word,  the  blacksmith  began  tugging  at 
the  plow. 

The  plow  was  soon  inside  the  little  shop,  Uncle  Bill 
began  to  put  on  coal  and  blow  up  the  fire,  while  Jones,  with 
monkey-wrench  in  hand,  began  to  take  the  plow  apart. 

"  What  do  you  hear  from  Grafton  ?  ''    said  Jones. 

''Oh,  George  is  all  right;  everybody  is  falling  in  with 
the  scheme,  'pears  like.  You  see,  they  are  coming  the  non- 
partizan  dodge: — don't  say  anything  about  politics; — and  so 
they  have  organized  and  gone  around  to  all  the  candidates, 
and  most  of  'em  has  promised  to  support  the  demands  ;  they 
all  want  farmers  votes,  you  know." 

"  I  don't  believe  I've  paid  enough  attention  to  know 
just  what  the  scheme  is,"  said  Jones. 

"  Well,  there  is  the  demands,  as  they  call  'em ;  you 
know  them  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  I've  heard  George  talk  on  them  things  by 
the  hour.  I  always  kinder  liked  George,  too,  but  I  never 
hnd  much  idea  how  hz  was  going  to  make  'em  work." 


LOOKING    FORWARD.  229 

"  \Yell,  I  been  tellin'  ye,  they  have  organized  and  got 
all  the  candidates  to  promise  to  help  make  the  demands  into 
law.  The  thing  has  gone  on,  'till  now  opposition  has  about 
caved  in  Democrats  and  republicans,  both,  are  going  to 
support." 

"  \Yell,"  said  Jones,  "  a  Stay-law  would  be  a  good  thing 
and  I  guess  all  right,  but  no  law  to  collect  debts  would  be 
pretty  tough  on  lenders,  and  borrowers,  too,  I'm  afraid." 

"  It  ought  to  be  !  I  wish  it  was  so  hard  on  'em  as  to 
knock  the  business  cold,  first  clatter.  Yon  never  knew  a 
man  to  get  into  the  hands  of  the  two-per-centers,  but  what 
they  had  his  hide  finally,  did  ye?  " 

"  Well,  they  are  a  bad  set,  that's  a  fact." 

"  Money  manages  everything,  don't  it?"  said  Weldon. 
''  Can't  anything  stand  np  against  the  power  of  money,  can 
it?" 

u  Guess  not." 

"  Well,  if  money  is  the  boss,  the  fellows  with  money 
are  masters,  ain't  they  ?  And  the  fellows  without,  have  to 
mind  their  p's  and  q's,  and  sing  small,  generally,  don't  they?" 

u  Pretty  much  so." 

u  Well,  don't  yon  see  that  it's  the  law  and  the  court 
that  gives  money  all  this  power?  Money-loaners  could  n't 
take  a  trick  without  the  law  to  back  'em,  could  they  ?  It 
takes  your  vote  and  my  vote  to  make  law,  and  in  that  way 
we  put  a  whip  into  the  hands  of  lawyers  and  money-loaners 
to  lash  us  into  poverty  with.  Law  makes  debt,  and  debt 
makes  interest,  and  we  sweat  to  pay  it,  and  they  grow  fat  a 
takin'  it.  That's  what  they  live  on  :  our  labor  turned  into 
interest  money  by  law.  If  there  was  no  law  to  collect  there 
would  be  no  debts,  or  next  to  none.  Say,  Tom,  we're  the 
damned'st  fools  in  the  business  ;  we  hist  such  hogs  as  B as- 
teed  onto  our  backs,  and  then  ain't  satisfied  without  giving 
them  the  law  as  a  whip  to  make  us  work.  If  it  wa'n't  for 
law  we'd  have  no  debt  and  have  no  interest  to  pay,  and  a 

would  be  found  to  do  business  for  cash.     It  is  the  cause 


230  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

of  inequality  among  us,  and  any  fellow  ought  to  see  that  it's 
not  right/' 

u  Oh,  you  are  a  little  fast  there  ;  the  law  applies  to 
everybody;  it  will  help  me  collect  my  debt,  just  as  well  as 
it  will,  Busteed." 

u  How    many    debts  have  you    collected  by  law  in  the 
last  year?  " 
"None!" 

"  How  many  in  the  last  five  years  ?  " 
"None!  " 

"  How  many  since  you  Ve  lived  in  Plainville  ?  " 
"  Well,  I  guess  just  about  the  same  number.' 
"  Don't  yon  see,  Tom,  that  you  fool  yourself  when  you 
think  that  thing  was  made  for  you;  course  you  might  use 
it,  but  you'd  better  not.  Now  suppose  we  had  no  law  at  all, 
and  we  say  among  ourselves :  let  every  fellow  take  what  he 
can  and  hold  it  as  well  as  he  may  ;  strength  is  to  be  the 
rule.  Now  we  are  all  equal ;  we  can  use  our  strength.  I 
suppose  that's  the  way  it  was  before  men  made  laws.  Well, 
now  everybody  is  free;  the  law  of  strength  applies  to  all 
alike,  but  you  know  how  it  would  be,  how  it  always  was 
under  such  circumstances ;  a  few  strong  men  would  own 
everything  and  the  rest  of  us  could  play  hide.'1 

"  Well,  now,  in  these  days,  money  and  law  play  the 
same  part  that  strength  does  among  the  savages.  The  fel 
low  that  has  the  most  money  and  the  most  law,  knocks  the 
persimmons.  I  want  the  laws  fixed  so  that  no  fellow  can 
use  his  strength  or  his  money  on  me,  and,— honest  Injun,— 
now  Tom,  he  ain't  got  no  real  Bible  right  to  do  it !  " 

"  vSuppose  you  go  back  home,  and  you  turn  your  sheep 
and  hogs  into  the  horse  lot  and  you  tell  your  horses,  as  you 
turn  them  in,  too,  that  every  fellow  is  free  to  tramp  toes  all 
he  likes.  When  the  horses  got  at  it,  the  sheep  and  pigs 
wouldn't  have  much  show,  would  they?  ' 
Jones  grinned,  but  said  nothing. 

"  WTell,  the  sheep  and  pigs  have  about  as  much  use  for 
the  law  you  give  the  horses  as  the  average  debtor  has  for 


-o 

s 


1 

I 


II 


LOOKING     FORWARD.  233 

the  law  for  collecting  ordinary  debts.  They  would  have  too 
much  sense  to  say  your  law  of  train  pin;;  was  just,  because 
you  give  'em  leave  to  tramp,  too." 

ki  I  don't  know  but  you  are  right/'  said  the  farmer. 

"Why,   I  know   I   am!      I  didn't    use  to  think    much 
about  these  things,  but  I  tell  you,  Tom,  I  don't  want  no  law 
to  help  me  get  the  better  of  some  fellow  in  my  business,  and 
I  don't  think   much   of  the   fellow    who   does.     You  can  bet 
your  life  he  thinks  he  is  a  horse    in    the   sheep-yard,   and 
wants  to  step  on   somebody.     Now,  I've   come   to  think   it's 
time  to  stop  allowing    the   meanest   men    we've  got   in  the 
community  to  climb,  rough-shod,  onto  any  poor  devil  they 
can  get  their  hoofs  on.      Laws  should  be  made  to  protect  the 
weak,  not  to  impose   on   'em.     Now,  if  we   can   get   the  de 
mands  made  into  law,  the  big   fellows  will  quit  stepping  on 
the  little  ones.     Then,  business  will  be  done  for  cash,  debts 
will  be  gradually  knocked  out,    interest  will  stop,  and  when 
a  poor  family  has  a  home  over  their  heads,  no  interest-sucker 
can  turn  'em  into  the  road.     Then  the  money-grabbers  will 
have  to  buy  property  and  go  to  work,  or   hire  labor.     Did 
you  ever  think,  Tom,  Avhat  would-  happen  if  everybody  but 
the  money-devils  and  their  tools,  the  lawyers,  should  take  it 
into  their  heads  to  leave  the  country,  for  good  ?     Supposing 
all    the    workers    should    git;     then,    Mister   Money-Loaner 
would  have  to  go  to  work,   wouldn't  he?     Would  n't  make 
much     difference     how    much    money    he    had,     would    it? 
Could  n't  eat  it,  could  he?     Couldn't  wear  it,  and   so  he'd 
have  to  dig  in  and   raise  crops   and  weave  cloth,  and  make 
himself  useful,  generally.     Now,  he  don't  have  to.      Money 
is  really  no  value  in    supporting  life,  when  the  worker  isn't 
around.     But  the  worker  can  be  imposed  on,  with  money:— 
but  it  takes  the  law  to  do  it,   though  !     Then,  the  money- 
monger  goes  around,  stepping  on  folks,  and  he  walks  high  ; 
— you  hear  me ! — and  the  little  fellows  has  to  squat.     And 
then,  to  think  of  the  little  fellows  being  pleased  up  with  the 
idea  that  it's  all  right  because,   maybe,  they  can  walk  high, 


234  LOOKING  FORWARD. 

themselves,  some  day,   and  find   some   other   little   feller  to 
step  on !  " 

Although  the  blacksmith  had  been  busy  with  his 
tongue,  u  between,  heats,"  his  hands  were  fully  employed, 
and  under  his  vigorous  strokes  the  necessary  repairs  upon 
the  plow  began  to  take  shape.  "  Get  that  sledge,  Tom,  and 
give  me  a  few  licks,"  said  he,  as  he  made  ready  to  pull  a 
bar  of  iron  from  the  fire  ;  "  don't  stand  there,  like  yer  had 


no  sense 

u 


You  keep  your  clack  going  so   that  it's  a  wonder  I've 
got  even  a  head  left!  "  said  Jones. 

"  Well,  ain't  I  been  a  working,  too  ?  I've  let  you 
know  that  I  can  talk  and  work,  too.  Now,  there's  that  idea 
of  a  free  home  :  no  tax  and  no  freeze-out  mortgage  possible," 
continued  Weldon. 

"  I  thought  that  was  a  fool  idea,  when  I  first  heard  of  it, 
but  I  tell  you  it's  all  right!     Some   years  ago  I  was  black 
smith  on  one  of  the  smaller  Indian  reservations  ;  poor  kind 
of  critters  they  was,  but  they  called  'em  civilized  ;  they  got 
nothing  from  the  government  but  the  land,  and  that  couldn't 
be  taken  from  'em.     They  had  a  government  to  protect  'em, 
them  Indians  had.     Well,  they  could  root  hog  or  die.     Most 
of  'em   did  ii't  root   any  more  than  they  had  to,  but, — Lord 
bless  you ! — they  all  had  a  plenty  and  some  of  the  thrifty 
ones  was  a  getting  rich.     One   thing   sure,   if  we   had  that 
chance,  there  would  be  no  such  thing  as  absolute  poverty ; 
everybody  could  make  a  living  that  wanted  to.     Enough  to 
eat  and  enough  to  wear,  and  a  roof  over  your  head  would  be 
sure  to  every  mother's  son  of  us.     Now,  don't   you  forget  it, 
there's  lots   of  white   folks   would   be  glad   of  just   such   a 
chance.     Them    Indians    didn't    pay   any   taxes,   and  their 
lands  could  n't  be  taken  from    'em.     If  they  had  been  any 
thing  like  decent  people  they  might  have   had  almost  any 
thing   they  could  get  their  eyes  on ;  but  as  it  was,  it  kept 
even  such  critters  as  them  in  comfort.     Now,  you  see,  Tom, 
if  everybody  had  such   a   chance   as   that,  steppin'  on  poor 
men  would  come  to  an  end,  and  finally,  after  it  had  been  in 


FORWARD.  235 

operation  long  enough,  our  '  free  home  '  amendment  would 
give  every  family  an  opportunity  to  have  just  that.  Well, 
not  everybody  would  want  it,  but  enough  would  take  up 
with  it  so  that  it  would  thin  out  the  labor  market  and  raise 
wages  ;  then,  when  wages  raised,  the  fellows  who  got  higher 
wages  could  spend  more  and  prices  would  rise  and  every 
thing  be  put  on  a  better  footing,  and — bless  the  Lord ! — 
we'd  get  out  from  under  the  feet  of  money-grabbers.  No 
harm  would  be  done  to  a  soul,  and  only  the  legal  privilege 
the  strong  now  have  of  imposing  upon  the  weak,  would  be 
taken  away.  Nothing  so  very  bad  about  that,  sure  ! ' 

Jones  did  not  reply  ;  evidently  he  was  revolving  in  his 
mind  the  propositions  advanced  by  Weldon,  who,  as  a  par 
ticular  and  personal  fritnd  of  Grafton's,  had  become  quite 
pronounced  as  a  local  advocate  of  the  propositions  included 
in  "  the  demands."  Although  the  blacksmith  was  hard  at 
work  upon  the  plow  with  his  hands,  mentally,  he  was 
strongly  engaged  in  the  efforts  to  '"convert"  Jones,  watching 
him  narrowly  to  see  how  he  took  what  was  said  to  him. 

Tom  Jones  was  an  honer,t,  but  not  very  acute,  sort  of 
man;  he  always  voted  the  republican  ticket,  had  little  to 
say  and  no  one  was  able  to  tell  whether  he  really  knew 
much  or  not.  Weldon  called  himself  a  democrat,  and  thus 
came  quite  naturally  into  opposition  to  Jones.  Judging 
from  his  look  and  actions  that  he  was  making  an  impres 
sion,  the  blacksmith  began  again  : 

'*  Now,  you  know,  Tom,  the  big  question  of  the  future, 
is  the  labor  question  ; — the  fight  between  capital  and  labor. 
That's  got  to  be  settled,  some  way.  It's  a  big  thing,  and 
it's  liable  to  tear  everything  all  up,  unless  some  kind  of  a 
settlement  is  made  'fore  long.  Now,  I've  no  new  plan  to 
save  the  world ;  I  just  want  to  go  back  to  first  principles,  to 
the  Declaration  of  Independence.  We  read  there  that  gov 
ernments  ought  to  exist  to  secure  to  men  their  individual 
rights  ;  that's  the  only  good  reason  for  government.  Now, 
let  our  government  do  that  thing, — that  is,  give  men  these 
natural  rights,  and  there  will  be  no  trouble.  Then,  every 
fellow  will  have  a  chance,  and  the  big  horses  can't  step  on 
him.  Now,  the  adoption  of  kthe  demands'  will  do  that. 
They  will  say, — when  put  into  the  State  constitution, — to 
the  rich  and  powerful :  '  Keep  your  hands  off  the  poor 


236 


LOOK  INC,  FORWARD. 


people;  stop  imposing  upon  'em;  give  'em  a  chance.' 
Now,  that's  all  any  reasonable,  self-respecting  poor  man 
wants ;  he  don't  want  the  property  of  the  rich,  but  he's 
perfectly  sick  of  the  constant  and  continual,  and  never- 
nding,  robber}-  of  the  poor  by  the  rich.  Fact  is,  our  great 
rich  people  are  made  powerful  in  just  one  way,  and  only 
one  way — they  steal  from  the  poor  and  from  those  who  are 
now  unable  to  help  themselves.  Course,  it's  done  according 
to  law,  in  indirect  and  concealed  ways.  But  it's  done ! 
Fact  is,  that's  the  only  way  it  can  be  done.  All  wealth  is 
created  by  labor,  and  the  man  who  creates  no  wealth  has 
got  to  steal,  if  he  gets  rich.  Adopt  '  the  demands,'  and  the 
labor  question  will  settle  itself,  because  each  individual  will 
be  protected  in  his  rights,  just  as  old  Tom  Jefferson  intended 
when  he  wrote  the  Declaration.  I'm  a  democrat,  but  I  be 
lieve  in  that  kind  of  protection,  and  I  am  in  favor  of  aboli 
tion,  too.  I  want  to  abolish  white  slavery,  and  I  want  to  do 
it  by  simply  following  out  the  lines  laid  down  in  that  good, 
old  democratic  document, — the  Declaration  of  Independence, 
—by  securing  to  each  man  his  rights,  and  taking  from  the 
rich  and  powerful  the  power  to  impose  upon  him.  That's 
all, — but  it's  enough.'' 

By  this  time  the  repairs  on  the  plow  had  been  com 
pleted;  the  blacksmith  assisted  in  putting  it  in  the  wagon, 
but  even  after  this  had  been  done,  he  still  stood  near ;  both 
arms  resting  on  the  edge  of  the  wagon-box,  as  though  loth 
to  have  Jones  leave  him,  although  the  latter  had  climbed 
into  his  wagon  and,  with  lines  in  hand,  was  ready  to  go. 

"  Tom,"  said  the  blacksmith,  "  I  think  we  ought  to 
help  in  this  business,  don't  you  ?"  But  Jones  would  not 
declare  himself,  only  saying,  as  he  drove  away  :  "  I'll  see, 
I'll  see." 


3 


l.OOKINC.     IVOR  WARD.  239 

CH  A  I'T  KR     XXII  1. 

THK    CONFLICT    OF    INTKRKSTS. 

HE  election  which  followed  in  November, 
resulted  in  a  tremendous  majority  for  the 
plan  of  campaign  as  promulgated  by  the 
farmers  in  their  demands.  Here  and  there, 
attempts  were  made  to  "count  out  "  candi 
dates  who  had  been  prominent  in  espous 
ing  what,  by  this  time,  was  seen  to  be  tht- 
cati.se  of  the  whole  people,  but  these  attempts  were  quickly 
frustrated,  for  it  began  to  be  clear  that  unless  the  farmers 
were  at  least  moderately  prosperous,  that  it  would  be  impos 
sible  for  either  merchants,  lawyers  or  doctors,  or  even 
bankers,  to  live  among  them,  since  they  all  depended  upon 
them,  either  directly  or  indirectly;  and  it  was  remembered 
that,  in  the  past,  the  time  in  which  the  farmers  were  pros 
perous  had  always  been  the  time  of  prosperity  to  all, 
including  the  professional  classes. 

But  after  the  furore  of  the  election  had  subsided,  and 
men  began  to  coolly  survey  the  field  and  to  think  of  the 
measures  to  be  employed,  a  very  natural  difference  of 
opinion  regarding  the  proposed  plans  began  to  be  mani 
fested.  And  these  differences,  .slight  at  first,  and  easily 
reconcilable,  were  magnified  by  the  press,  so  that  when  the 
time  of  meeting  of  the  State  Legislature  had  arrived,  a 
heated  controversy  in  the  newspapers  being  kept  up  in  the 
meantime,  two  plainly  discernible  factions  had  ranged 
themselves  in  opposing  ranks. 

On  the  part  of  one  it  was  said  that  while  it  was  plain 
that  something  radical  was  needed,  and  the  advisibility  of 
some  sort  of  a  stay  law  was  conceded,  still  the  abolition  of 
the  collection  of  debts  by  law  was  furiously  opposed,  and  an 
attempt  was  made  to  show  that  this  would  involve  the  utter 
prostration  of  business  and  take  from  the  poor  and  industri 
ous  man  the  power  of  obtaining  credit,  with  which  he  might 
be  able  to  accumulate  a  competency.  It  was  noticed  that 


240  LOOKING  FORWARD. 

i 

the  advocates  of  this  view,  although  they  spoke  only  of  the 
poor  man  and  the  evils  which  would  fall  upon  his  head  by 
the  action  of  the  proposed  legislation,  consisted  almost 
entirely  of  lawyers  and  men  who  were  interested,  either 
directly  or  indirectly,  in  loaning  money  ;  still,  they  spoke 
earnestly  and  eloquently  for  the  poor  man,  and  wished,  so 
they  said,  to  see  him  secure  in  all  his  rights  and  privileges 
which  the  proposed  legislation  would  plainly  curtail. 

The  other  side  stoutly  maintained  that  debt  was  the 
great  evil,  the  cause  of  untold  misery  and  vastly  superior  to 
intoxicating  drink  as  a  cause  of  poverty  and  crime,  and  they 
quoted  from  statistics  at  great  length,  which,  so  they  said, 
showed  that  in  a  general  way  crime  was  committed  in  direct 
proportion  to  the  misery,  ignorance  and  poverty  of  the  peo 
ple.  That  the  ability  to  get  into  debt  was  an  imaginary 
advantage,  and  an  actual  and  positive  disadvantage  to  every 
honest  man.  "  Pay  as  you  go,"  said  they,  "is  the  philoso 
pher's  stone  which  turns  all  to  gold  !  "  They  showed  that, 
by  actual  experience,  short  credits  would  not  be  interfered 
with,  as  they  were  made  upon  the  honor  of  the  debtor  at 
the  time,  and  would  so  continue.  They  also  showed  that, 
while  under  laws  then  existing,  it  might  be  possible  for  a 
man  in  comfortable  circumstances  to  adopt  for  himself  the 
plan  of  cash  payments,  the  organization  of  society  under  the 
plan  of  universal  debt,  made  it  nearly  impossible  for  the 
man  already  in  the  meshes  of  circumstances  to  do  this  ;  and, 
said  they,  if  society,  generally,  is  involved  and  depressed  by 
the  operation  of  laws  and  customs,  indirectly  all  must  suffer, 
and  in  the  long  run  the  general  public ;  prosperity  and 
happiness  will  be  gradually  reduced  to  a  lower  and  still 
lower  level. 

During  the  two  months  which  elapsed  between  the 
election  and  the  meeting  of  the  legislature,  if  one  had  judged 
the  temper  of  the  public  mind  by  reading  the  partisan  and 
political  newspapers  published  in  the  State,  he  would  cer 
tainly  have  concluded  that  discord  and  confusion  reigned. 
Two  things,  however,  operated  to  prevent  the  minds  of  the 


UOOKINC.     FORWARD.  24! 

farmers  from  being  diverted  to  any  great  extent  from  the 
originally-expressed  purposes  of  the  campaign.  The  great 
est,  of  course,  was  the  thorough  discussion  of  the  questions 
at  stake  among  the  farmers,  which  had  preceded  the  election, 
their  organization  holding  solidly  to  their  original  demands 
and  very  generally  refusing  all  overtures  of  compromise  in 
the  very  moderate  measures  upon  which  they  had  at  first 
agreed.  It  began  once  more  to  be  seen,  as  has  been  the 
case  throughout  the  history  of  the  world,  that,  although 
tillers  of  the  soil  are  usually  very  slow  to  accept  changes  in 
;heir  manner  of  thought,  still,  when  they  have  once  thor 
oughly  made  up  their  minds,  they  are  not  easily  diverted 
from  the  execution  of  their  plans. 

The  other  reason  was,  that  the  opposition,  which  had 
apparently  been  lost  sight  of  at  the  time  of  the  election, 
could  not  quite  conceal  the  fact  that  they  were  now  endea 
voring  to  prevent  the  success  of  the  people  s  cause  by  the 
policy  of  dividing  what  they  had  failed  to  conquer,  when 
united.  Tne  character  and  known  interests  of  the  advocates 
wlio  were  industriously  seeking  to  create  divisions,  appeared 
too  plainly  upon  the  surface  for  effectual  concealment. 

Although  feeling  ran  high,  and  a  subdued  excitement 
had  taken  possession  of  the  whole  body  of  citizens,  the  great 
and  distinguishing  excellence  of  the  American  people, 
accustomed  as  they  are  to  decide  questions  in  a  public  capa 
city,  became  manifest  to  all.  No  disturbance  of  any  moment 
took  place  and  the  greatest  good  nature  prevailed  in  all 
public  assemblies,  upon  the  part  of  the  participants. 

Although  the  partisan  press  still  kept  up  its  weekly 
fusilade,  it  began  to  be  noticed  that  the  public  deliverances 
of  the  farmers'  organizations  at  their  meetings  and  in  the 
papers  championing  their  cause,  showed  no  material  change- 
in  sentiment  or  expression.  Replying  to  the  compromisers, 
they  showed  most  conclusively  that  any  attempt  to  change 
their  plans  by  substituting  a  plan  for  the  purchase  of  homes 
by  the  creation  of  debts  would  inevitably  result  in  delivering 
the  home-purchaser  into  the  hands  of  the  dealers  in  money: 


242  U3OKING    FORWARD. 

that  the  buyer  of  land  under  the  proposed  plan,  in  case  he 
failed  to  pay  in  full,  would  be  subjected  to  the  pains  and 
penalties  of  a  suit  at  law,  to  obtain  from  the  party  of 
whom  he  had  "bought,  the  money  he  had  advanced,  and 
that  it  was  far  better  for  a  man  to  be  entirely  free  from 
debt,  with  some  money  in  the  bank,  than  to  be  the  holder 
of  land  which  somebody  else  really  owned.  It  was  ack 
nowledged  by  them  that  in  any  radical  change  some  hard 
ships  would  inevitably  have  to  be  endured,  but  that  the 
entire  freedom  from  debt  and  consequent  deliverance  of  a 
people  from  its  galling  chains,  and  the  domination  which 
it  necessarily  imposed,  was  a  cause  which  fully  justified 
any  effort  which  might  be  made  to  escape  what  was  clearly 
seen  as  the  great  evil  of  the  time. 

Thus  matters  stood  at  the  time  of  the  inauguration  of 
the  new  State  administration,  and  a  general  feeling  of 
expectancy,  not  unmixed  with  alarm,  on  the  part  of  so- 
called  'conservative*  citizens,  held  possession  of  the  public 
mind. 

The  inauguration  of  Governor  Brown  took  place,  as 
usual,  in  the  capitol  at  Topeka,  and  was  attended  by 
nothing  unusual  beyond  the  deep  feeling  of  anxiety,  which 
appeared  to  take  -possession  of  the  masses  of  people,  that 
crowded  the  Hall  of  Representatives  almost  to  the  point 
of  suffocation. 

As  the  Governor-elect  came  forward  to  take  the  oath 
of  office,  he  was  seen  to.be  a  stout,  well-built  man  of  open 
countenance  and  ruddy  complexion,  some  fifty  years  of 
age,  who,  though  somewhat  agitated  by  the  weighty 
responsibilities  of  the  hour,  was  3ret  master  of  himself  and 
of  the  situation  in  which  he  was  placed  by  the  suffrages  of 
the  electors  of  Kansas.  The  ceremony  having  been  quickly- 
concluded,  he  stepped  to  the  front  and,  producing  a  roll  of 
manuscript,  began  the  reading  of  his  inaugural  address,  as 
follows  : 

"  Fellow  Citizens  of  Kansas:  Impressed,  as  I  am  at 
this  hour,  with  the  solejnn  and  weighty  responsibilities  of 


LOOKINV,   FORWARD.  243 

my  present  position,  I  should  not  do  justice  to  you,  nor  to 
myself,  if  1  failed  to  acknowledge,  in  a  fitting  and  suitable 
manner,  my  dependence  OD  the  Supremo  Arbiter  of  events. 

Appealing  to  Him  and  to  that  innate  sense  of  justice 
which  inhabits  the  breasts  of  honest  men,  the  people 
whom  I  represent,  in  an  official  capacity  have  declared 
their  unalterable  opposition  to  anything  which  may 
militate  airainst  the  truest  interests  of  the  whole  people  of 
the  State  of  Kansas.  The  interest  of  no  class  of  citi/en> 
even  though  that  class  should  represent  a  majority  of  its 
people,  should  be  fostered  or  advanced,  if  thereby  the  just 
rights  of  any  citizen  be,  by  such  action,  imperiled  or  put 
in  jeopardy.  The  history  of  the  past  has  fully  proved  the 
power  of  majorities  to  work  great  injustice  in  the  dealings 
with  the  few,  and  the  fear  has  been  expressed  that,  in  the 
accession  to  power  in  this  State  of  the  present  administra 
tion,  that  measures  might  be  adopted  which  would  prove 
both  injurious  and  unjust  to  the  rights  and  privileges  of 
some. 

"  Fellow  Citi/ens  of  the  Senate  and  House  of  Repre 
sentatives  :  Under  these  circumstances  it  will  be  right 
and  proper  for  us  to  declare,  in  the  most  solemn  manner, 
our  determination  to  be  guided  in  the  legislation  which 
may  be  effected  by  what  the  good  ('hancellor  Kent  has 
described  as  '  those  fit  and  just  rules  of  conduct  which  the 
Creator  has  prescribed  to  man  as  a  dependent  and  social 
being,  and  which  are  to  be  ascertained  by  the  deductions 
of  right  reasoning'.  Let  us  also  remember  that,  in  the 
words  of  one  of  the  greatest  American  lawyers  that  '  upon 
entering  into  society  for  the  purpose  of  having  their  natu 
ral  rights  secured  and  protected  or  properly  redressed,  the 
few  do  not  give  up  or  surrender  any  portion  of  their  price 
less  heritage  in  any  government  constituted  as  it  should 
be."  Let  it  be  our  duty, — and  pleasure  as  well, — to  secure 
to  all,  so  far  as  we  may  be  able,  those  inalienable  rights  to 
life,  liberty  and  property,  upon  which  depend  our  modern 
social  life  and  business  existence." 


244  LOOKING  FORWARD. 

As  the  Governor  began  the  reading  of  his  message,, 
the  immense  assemblage  stood  in  silence  and  with  most 
intense  expectancy  written  upon  their  countenances. 
Gradually,  the  strained  and  anxious  look  gave  way  as  his 
hearers,  glancing  into  the  faces  of  those  about  them,  read 
the  expressions  of  approval  and  satisfaction  which  began 
to  be  manifested  there.  Continuing,  he  took  up,  one  after 
another,  the  questions  which  had  so  agitated  the  minds  of 
the  people  of  the  State,  and  each  in  turn  was  so  fairly  and 
moderately  stated  and  treated,  that  when  he  had  concluded, 
the  applause  was  most  generous  and  unstinted. 

The  assemblage  slowly  dispersed,  and  the  people  com 
posing  it  chatted  pleasantly  among  themselves  as  they 
made  their  way  out  of  the  building;  the  general  expres 
sion  among  the  Topeka  people  being  that  the  address  was 
very  good,  indeed,  for  a  "  granger,"  and  evinced  some  care 
in  its  preparation  and  altogether  was  somewhat  satisfac 
tory,  being  plainly  intended  to  reassure  those  who  had 
feared  destruction  to  the  monied  interests  from  the  elec 
tion  of  a  plain  farmer  upon  a  platform  which  had  asserted 
some  of  the  useful  platitudes  on  "  the  rights  of  labor". 

Among  the  country  people  present,  as  visitors  and 
members  of  the  legislature,  the  address  was  regarded  as 
"just  the  thing".  One  of  the  members-elect,  who  had 
collected  a  little  knot  of  fellow  legislators  around  him  in 
one  of  the  corridors,  declared  to  his  interested  listeners 
that,  ''  Tom  Brown  was  just  as  big  a  man  as  there  was  on 
the  platform,  for  all  the  chief-justice  and  his  gold-bowed 
spectacles.  Talk  about  your  education  and  polish! 
Mother-wit  and  natural  good  sense  beats  everything  else, 
time  a  man  gets  to  be  forty  years  old." 

"  Then,"  said  he,  "  men  fall  out  and  fight  because  they 
don't  understand  each  other.  One  side  means  one  thing 
by  the  use  of  a  set  of  words,  and  the  other  fellows  mean 
something  else,  and  here  they  are  at  cross-purposes  before 
they  know  it,  when,  if  they  only  fully  understood  each 
other,  there  was  n't  so  much  difference  in  'em,  after  all." 


LOOKING;  FORWARD.  24 s 

"  Well,  now,"  said  another,  "what  yen  say  is  all  true 
enough;  folks  don't  understand  each  other,  that's  a  fact: 
and  no  doubt  that  is  the  cause  of  a  great  deal  of  trouble. 
but  1  want  you  to  understand  that  there  is  something 
more  than  the  dictionary  between  the  two  sides  that's 
going  to  lock  horns  in  this  legislature,  before  long.'' 

''That's  all  true  enough,  too,"  said  the  first;  "hut 
what  I  mean  to  say  is  that  the  honest  men,  the  men  who 
mean  to  do  right  and  are  disposed  to  do  the  fair  thing, 
won't  have  much  trouble  in  understanding  each  other, 
once  we  get  to  work  and  talk  things  over.  The  trouble, 
will  come  trom  fellows  that's  hired  to  misrepresent  and 
delay,  and  rake  up  difficulties,  and  dig  pits  for  the  rest. 
of  us." 

"That's  so,"  broke  in  another,  "and  what  makes  the 
outlook  had  is  that  these  la-t  fellows,  who  mean  to  make 
trouble,  are  keen,  bright  men,  who  know  the  ropes  and 
have  a  way  of  controlling  the  men  they  run  with.  Turn  a 
lot  of  horses  together,  and  there'll  be  one  among  'em  that, 
the  rest  will  follow  anywhere.  I)on't  seem  to  make  much 
difference  what  kind  of  a  horse  it  is:  ten  to  one  it's  a 
worthless  old  plug,  but  he  can  lead  'em,  and  it's  just  BO 
with  men:  they'll  follow  after  some  scoundrel,  and  sure's 
they  do  he'll  get  'em  into  a  bad  hole." 

"  I  tell  you,  Hill,  said  the  first  speaker.  "  there's  where 
the  good  of  organization  comes  in.  Now.  if  there  is  n<» 
organization — like  the  old  Alliance,  for  instance, — a  lot  of 
strange  men  thrown  together  for  fifty  days,  as  the  legisla 
ture  is,  would  be  hauled  around  by  these  black  sheep 
leaders,  but  when  honest,  well-intentioned  men  have  an 
organization  controlled  by  established  principles, thai  sort 
of  work  gets  a  black  eye  right  where  it'll  do  the  most  good, 
'flie  organization  acts  the  part  of  the  fence  around  the 
pasture  where  Hill's  horses  are  running.  The  old  plug 
leaders  is  there  and  the  crowd  run  after  'cm,  but  the  fence 
stops  'em  from  going  very  far.  You  see,  the  fence  is  put 
up  on  established  principles,  in  which  the  rights  of  men 


346  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

and  property  arc  settled  and  the  bounds  staked  out  by  a 
force  which  the  old  plugs,  men  or  horses,  are  bound  to 
respect.  Now,  you  turn  a  lot  of  horses  loose  on  the  prairie 
and  the  meanest  horse  you've  got  will  lead  the  whole 
bunch  clean  off  to  his  old  stamping-ground.  Then,  you 
see,  they  ain't  no  use  to  you  nor  to  themselves,  and  ten  to 
one,  some  man's  crop  is  a-sufferirig.  The  mischief  is  to 
pay  somewheres,  you  can  bet  your  life.  But  now  you  just 
turn  them  horses  into  a  pasture  with  a  good  religious 
fence,  with  plenty  of  barbs  on  the  top  wire,  and  the  next 
morning  you  know  where  they  are.  The  horses  ain't 
changed  none  in  disposition,  the  old  plug  leader  is  there, 
but  he  ain't  running  the  flesh  off  the  bunch  now;  nor 
getting  them  into  some  man's  cornfield.  I  tell  you,  horses 
ain't  no  good  onless  they're  controlled  by  something  they 
respect,  and  loose  men  ain't  no  better  than  loose  horses. 
Principles,  organization  and  government  is  good  things 
for  both  men  and  horses,  but  it's  mighty  important  which 
side  of  the  fence  your  man  or  your  horse  gets  to  be." 


tt 

o 


LOOKING     FORWARD. 


245 


Cli  A  1'T  E  K     XXIV. 


DKSTINY. 


H  E     session      »f     the      legislature 
which  followed  was  most  exciting 
and    troublous.       Action     upon     the 
main  propositions  was   deferred   from 
day  to  day.  first  by    one   and  then  an 
other    motion    of   delay.      The    minor 
points    of   difference,    which    argument 
had    developed      during    and    since    the 
canvass,  were  carefully    kept    alive   and 
division     fomented      by     every    device 

know  to  the  artful.  So-called  "  great  men,"  belonging  to 
both  the  democratic  and  republican  parties,  strayed  casu 
ally  into  Topeka  and  were  "  invited"  to  speak  upon  the 
issue>  of  the  day.  I'pon  one  point  both  were  agreed,  and 
on  that  much  was  said  by  the  eminent  men  of  either  party. 
The  sacredness  of  the  right  to  have  and  hold  property  was 
enlarged  upon  and  argued  at  great  and  most  convincing 
length.'  After  the  speeelie-.  these  eminent  leader >  were 
introduced,  at  different  times,  to  the  members  of  the 
legislature  belonging  to  theii  respective  parties;  and  with 
those  who  gave  promise  of  becoming  leaders,  much  time 
\vas  spent  in  explaining  the  legal  aspect  of  the  proposed 
legii-dation.  Klattered  by  the  attention  of  men  of  national 
reputation,  these  began  to  waver  in  their  adherence  to  the 
irict  letter  of  the  "  demands" ;  the  "demands'1  were  well 
enough, — something  must  be  done. — but  they  were  not  in 
favor,  now  that  they  properly  understood  the  matter,  of 
anything  which  might  savor  of  revolution. 

Matters  were  still  further  complicated  by  the  promises 
made  in  the  matter  of  the  election  of  a  senator.  Upon 
this  question  party  lines  were  strictly  drawn, and  a  heated 
and  acrimonious  discussion  had  so  embittered  the  factions 


250  LOOKING     FORWARD. 

that  no  agreement  appeared    possible  among  them  upon 
any  question,  whatever. 

Thus  the  session  wore  slowly  away  and  the  fifty  days, 
for  which  the  members  received  pay,  at  last  expired,  and 
the  "demands"  were  still  unheeded.  Although,  at  the 
outset,  a  majority  had  favored  them,  this  majority  had 
yielded  to  the  powerful,  and  us  it  appeared,  convincing 
arguments  of  the  visiting  statesmen.  However,  a  strong 
and  united  minority  still  remained  who  vigorously  advo 
cated  the  original  demands, — but  it  was  a  minority. 

The  time  for  which  members  were  paid  having  ex 
pired,  one  after  another  left  for  home,  but  before  an 
adjournment  was  finally  had,  the  democrats  got  together 
and  passed  a  set  of  caustic  resolutions  laying  all  the  blame 
of  non-action  in  important  matters  upon  the  wicked  and 
monopolistic  republicans.  The  republicans,  not  to  be 
outdone  in  this  matter,  with  the  assistance  of  a  certain  ex- 
Senator,  possessed  of  a  vitriolic  tongue  and  pen,  also  con 
cocted  "  an  address  to  the  people,"  in  which  they  recited 
at  length  the  doings  of  the  wicked  and  whiskey-loving 
democrats;  charged  them  with  the  commission  of  every 
crime  in  the  calendar  and  credited  them  with  a  desire  to 
invent  new  ones  that  they  might  commit  them,  and  upon 
these  degraded  beings  they  rightfully  placed,  so  they  said, 
the  onus  of  the  existing  situation. 

The  minority  also  came  out  with  what  they  termed, 
"A  Plain  Statement,"  in  which  they  showed  the  manner 
in  which  the  proposed  legislation  had  been  defeated. 

After  the  adjournment,  the  newspapers  throughout 
the  State  which  had  originally  opposed  the  demands,  came 
out  simultaneous!}'  with  a  great  shout  of  approval.  Revo 
lutionary  and  anarchistic  doctrines  had  now  received  their 
death  wound,  and  would  expire.  People,  said  they,  had  at 
last  come  to  their  senses  and  would  no  longer  follow  revo 
lutionary  and  communistic  leaders  who  aimed  at  the 
destruction  of  society.  The  farmers,  however,  were  ex 
asperated  and  moody;  their  scheme  had  failed.  At  first, 


LOOKING   VORWARD.  251 

hut  little  was  said:  gradually  they  began,  in  public  assem 
blies,  to  formulate  and  express  their  opinion^  ami  it  was 
noticed  that  a  large  share  of  their  wrath  was  directed  at 
the  political  leaders  and  organizations  that  had  so  plainly 
frustrated  their  efforts  for  relief,  and  as  the  feeling  among 
them  that  they  had  heen  defrauded,  grew  and  increased, 
here  and  there  throughout  the  State,  unwarranted  liherties 
we iv  taken  with  men  who,  as  memhers  of  the  legislative 
hody,  had  failed  to  carry  out  ante-election  promises.  A 
uuiuher  were  visited  at  the  dead  hour  of  night  by  com 
mittees  supplied  with  tar  and  feathers,  which  they,  in  a 
most  illegal  manner,  proceeded  to  apply.  SOUK-  were 
taken  hy  masked  men  and  stripped  and  heaten  until  they 
promised,  if  released,  to  undo  the  work  which  they  had 
done,  when  given  an  opportunity.  '  As  this  proceeded,  the 
farmers'  organizations  at  once  awoke  and  took  most  active 
steps  in  opposition.  Resolutions  were  passed  expelling 
any  memher  guilty  of  illegally  taking  part  in  demonstra 
tions  of  a  riotous  character,  and  investigations  were  gel 
on  foot  to  discover  the  perpetrators  of  outrage,  and  the 
result  of  these  showed  most  conclusively  that  "bummers" 
and  hangers-on  are  in  almost  everv  instance  the  curse  of 
either  armies  or  organizations.  And  although  the  reign 
of  tar  and  feathers  <|iiickly  came  to  an  end, — discounte 
nanced  as  it  was  by  the  better  elements  of  the  State, — it  is 
yet  doubtful  whether  salutary  effects  were  not  produced 
by  these  overt  acts  of  lawless  citizens.  Hut  all  agreed  that 
they  should  come  to  an  end. 

As  the  season  advanced,  and  spring,  witli  the  return 
ing  warmth  of  the  benignant  and  all-creating  sun,  began 
to  cause  the  thoughts  of  the  farmers  to  return  to  their 
tield<  again,  the  wrath  of  the  agriculturists  did  not  abate, 
as  had  been  the  expectation  of  some. 

Public  meetings  increased  in  size  and  favor,  and  many 
declared  that  until  matters  of  importance  were  settled  they 
did  not  care  longer  to  cultivate  land,  merely  that  others 
might  reap  the  results  of  their  toil.  So  great  was  tho 


252  LOOKING     FORWARD. 

excitement  throughout  the  State  that  attention  was  at 
tracted  to  Kansas,  in  all  parts  of  the  country,  and  the  great 
oity  dailies  contained  standing  "stare-heads,"  which  called 
attention  to  the  situation  in  Kansas.  As  discussion  pro 
ceeded,  a  demand  was  gradually  evolved  that  Governor 
Brown  summon  the  legislature  in  extra  session  to  take 
action  which  should  fairly  represent  the  sentiment  of  the 
people  of  the  State.  In  the  excited  state  of  public  feeling, 
business  came,  very  largely,  to  an  end;  and  among  busi 
ness  men,  who  had  previously  opposed  the  "demands"  as 
revolutionary,  the  call  for  an  extra  session  found  favor, 
it  began  to  be  plain  to  them  that  something  radical  must 
really  be  done,  as,  without  an  earnest  effort  was  made  to 
pacify  the  excited  people,  they  began  to  fear  social  disorder 
of  the  worst  type. 

The  farmers  held  solidy  to  their  original  demands, 
and  many  who  had  heretofore  been  only  luke-warm  in 
their  support,  spoke  in  the  most  decided  manner  in  favor 
of  even  more  radical  measures.  Propositions  of  compro 
mise  of  one  kind  or  another  were  made  in  almost  every 
prominent  journal — and,  in  short,  the  air  was  full  of,  what 
appeared  to  be,  a  coming  storm. 

Mr.  Grafton,  as  an  official  of  the  Alliance,  was  engaged 
in  delivering  addresses  to  the  farmers'  assemblies  at  various 
places  in  the  State,  in  which  he  counseled  the  greatest  care 
in  obeying  the  laws  and  preserving  the  peace,  as  well  as  a 
united  front  against  compromise  of  any  character.  As  he 
was  speaking  at  a  gathering  of  farmers,  near  Atlanta,  a 
disturbance  arose  in  the  audience,  caused  by  the  interrup 
tions  of  a  drunken  man,  who  wore  the  star  of  a  detective. 
Mr.  Grafton  bore  pleasantly  with  the  taunts  of  the  creature, 
who,  from  time  to  time,  continued  to  apply  himself  to  a 
bottle  with  which  he  was  supplied.  Finally  he  became  so 
obstreperous, — supported  as  he  was  by  a  little  knot  of  men 
who  had  come  upon  the  grounds  with  him, — that  it  was 
impossible  to  proceed,  and  Mr.  Grafton  paused  and  said : 


LOOKING    FORWARD.  253 

"  Friends,  it  is  impossible  to  proceed  in  this  manner. 
That  man  must  be  removed!" 

"  Come  and  do  it  yourself  !  "  said  the  now  infuriated 
man,  with  an  oath. 

As  no  preparations  had  been  made  to  enforce  order, 
no  one  started  to  do  the  necessary  work  of  removing  the 
<-reature,  who  now,  losing  all  control  of  himself,  began,  in 
the  most  obscene  and  profane  manner,  to  scream  with  rage, 
frightening  the  women  and  children,  who  in  large  num- 
hers  were  present.  Seeing  that  something  must  be  done 
at  once,  Graf  ton  went  toward  the  man,  followed  by  some 
of  the  more  resolute  among  the  farmers.  As  he  came 
near,  the  man  flourished  a  revolver  and  bade  the  crowd 
defiance,  but  Grafton  kept  steadily  on: 

"  You  are  a  disturber  of  the  peace  and,  as  a  citizen,  I 
arrest  you  !"  said  he;  but  before  he  could  reach  him.  the 
man  fired,  and  Grafton  dropped  to  the  ground. 

Immediately  there  was  a  scene  of  wild  disorder;  wo 
men  screamed,  children  began  to  cry,  and  men  to  curse 
and  swear  and  rush  toward  the  point  of  disturbance.  The 
villain  was  quickly  seized  and  disarmed,  and  a  cry  went 
up  of: 

"  Hang  him!  String  him  up!  Kill  the  thief!"  Reason 
appeared  to  have  completely  disappeared  and  its  place  to 
be  taken  by  a  wild,  ungovernable  fury,  which  converted 
the  gathering  of  peaceable  and  easy-going  farmers  into  a 
howling  mob,  for  the  moment  ungovernable  in  its  char 
acter.  A  lariat  rope  was  quickly  taken  from  a  pony 
tethered  near,  and  as  quickly  placed  about  the  neck  of  the 
miscreant,  and  he  was  hurried  to  a  little  distance  from  the 
scene  of  his  crime,  where  a  suitable  tree  was  standing. 

Grafton  lay  upon  the  ground,  where  he  had  fallen. 
Most  of  the  men,  crazed  as  they  were  with  rage,  were  en 
gaged  in  hurrying  the  murderer  towards  the  fatal  tree, 
which  already  a  young  man  had  climbed  and  was  making 
signals  that  the  end  of  the  rope  might  be  thrown  to  him. 
As  the  wretch  who  had  caused  their  fright  was  dragged 


254  BOOKING    FORWARD. 

away,  the  women  gathered  about  the  wounded  man.  A 
lady  sat  upon  the  ground  and,  taking  Graf  ton's  head  in 
her  lap,  directed  the  crowd  to  stand  back.  Tearing  open 
his  shirt-front,  a  brother  farmer  exposed  the  fatal  wound; 
a  small  bullet  hole  in  the  left  breast,  with  but  a  drop  or 
two  of  blood  upon  the  surface  told  the  story.  He  was 
bleeding  inwardly,  and  would  soon  be  gone.  He  was  yet 
conscious,  and  as  the  death  damp  gathered  upon  his  brow 
he  made  feeble  signs  for  water,  and  when  his  want  was 
supplied,  he  slowly  and  painfully  said: 

''  Don't  let them  hang him he  was  drunk!" 

Meantime,  although  the  rope  was  in  place  over  a  limb 
of  the  tree  which  had  been  chosen,  the  crowd,  revolting 
from  the  idea  of  murder,  had  halted  temporarily  in  its 
work  and  sent  some  of  their  number  to  make  sure  whether 
Grafton  was  really  dead.  Coming  to  where  he  lay,  these, 
seeing  the  wounded  man  with  white  face  and  exposed 
wound,  from  which  trickled  now  and  then  a  drop  of  blood, 
slowly  sinking,  without  sign  of  life  other  than  the  sigh- 
like  respirations  which  grew  more  and  more  infrequent 
from  moment  to  moment,  were  seized  with  that  intense 
sympathy  which  the  sight  of  blood,  shed  in  a  righteous 
cause,  is  sure  to  bring  to  the  most  hardened  and  unthink 
ing,  and  returning  hurriedly,  themselves  seized  the  end  of 
the  rope  and  began  to  pull  upon  it.  Instantly,  hands  in 
laid  hold,  and  the  wretch  was  dangling  in  the  air. 


Who,  that  is  able  to  look  back  upon  a  checkered  life, 
can  fail  to  acknowledge  that  he  has  been  "  led  in  a  way  he 
knew  not  ?"  The  future  ever  appears  capable  of  control, 
but  when  it  is  past  we  are  forced  to  the  conclusion  that  we 
are,  and  must  remain,  totally  unconscious  of  the  hidden 
springs  from  whence  come  the  motives  which  impel  us  to 
the  course  we  pursue.  This  man  lives  a  fortunate  life  and 
that  one  is  pursued  by  the  slings  and  arrows  of  outrageous 
fortune.  c  And  why?  It  is  said  that  the  one  is  wise  in 
choice  and  careful  in  council,  and  the  other  unwise  and 


UOOKINC,    FORWARD. 


255 


foolish  in  his  ways,  and  Unit  thus  they,  themselves,  have 
made  the  hods  in  which  they  lie?  And  who  docs  not 
know  that  this,  instead  of  being  an  answer,  is  but  a  beg 
ging  of  the  question?  For  who  made  the  one  wise  and 
the  other  foolish  ?  Themselves?  And  can  a  man  make 
himself  do  or  be  anything  not  provided  for  in  the  secret 
recesses  of  his  mental  being,  when,  like  the  infant  oak 
within  the  acorn's  germ,  he  first  was  fashioned  as  a 
thought  of*God?  And  shall  the  oak  pride  and  praise  ii-i-ii 
that  it  is  not  a  pine? 

Than  what  they   are,   the   oak   and    the    pine    could  be 
nothing  less  and  nothing  more. 


256 


LOOKING  FORWARD. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

THR    ORPHANS. 

R.  KLLERY  was  sauntering  down  the 
street  upon  a  pleasant  spring-like  day, 
when  he  met  the  station-agent,  who  was 
also  the  only  telegraph  operator  of  the 
town,  who  said  : 

"  I  have  a  telegram  for  Miss  Grafton, 
whieh  you  ought  to  know  of.  Her  fa 
ther  has  been  killed." 

The     kind-hearted     preacher    was    so 

horrified  and  astonished  by  what  he  heard  that  for  the  mo 
ment  he  could  make  no  sound,  and  stared  blankly  at  the 
man.  At  last  he  found  tongue  to  say  : 

''  How  did  it  happen  ?  Where  was  he  ?  " 
'It  was  at  a  picnic  near  Atlanta,  in  Coles  county; 
somebody  shot  him  and  they  hung  the  fellow  up  without 
judge  or  jury.  This  I  get  from  the  wires  that  are  sending 
it  all  over  the  country.  The  telegram  gives  no  particulars. 
You  better  open  it." 

Taking  the  terrible  missive  in  his  hands,  Mr.  Bllery 
opened  the  envelope  and  read  : 

ATLANTA,  KANSAS,  -  — . 

To  MARY  GRAFTON,  PLAINVILLE,  KANSAS. 

Your  father  was  shot  and  killed  near  here  yesterday. 
Will  come  with  (lie  hody  to-morrow.  JAMES  GREKNK. 

Putting  the  paper  in  his  pocket,  Mr.  Ellery  went  at 
once  to  the  house  and  without  circumlocution  told  his  wife 
the  sorrowful  news.  She,  poor  lady,  with  true  womanly 
sympathy  exclaimed,  as  the  tears  filled  her  eyes  : 

"  Oh  !  Oh  !  My  poor  Mary  !  What  will  my  dear  girl 
do  ?  What  can  she  ?  I  shall  fear  to  tell  her.  She  was 
bound  up  in  her  father's  welfare,  and  day  and  night  her 
thoughts  were  with  him." 

"  But  you  must  tell  her,"  said  Mr.  Ellery ;  "  and  no 
doubt,  as  it  is  known  on  the  street,  some  one  will  tell  her  as 


LOO  KIM,     FORWARD.  259 

she  comes  from  school,  if  you  do  not.      You  must  go  to  the 
school-house  and  bring  her  home  at  once.'' 

Hastily  putting  on  her  bonnet  and  shawl,  Mrs.  Kllery 
started  for  the  school-house.  Conning  over  in  her  mine1 
the  means  she  should  use  in  managing  the  difficult  and 
most  distressing  errand  upon  which  her  unwilling  feet  were 
carrying  her.  she  was  soon  at  the  door,  and  although  differ 
ent  plans  had  in  turn  presented  themselves  to  her  mind, 
she  had  been  unable  to  decide  upon  anything  definitely. 
Opening  the  door,  she  stepped  at  once  inside  ;  resolved,  at 
last,  that,  having  no  plan,  she  would  restrain  her  own 
emotions  and  act  with  the  best  judgment  furnished  her  by 
the  inspiration  of  the  moment.  As  she  entered  the  room, 
Mary,  with  beaming  face  and  animated  manner,  was  engaged 
in  describing  to  a  class  of  little  ones  taking  their  first  voy. 
age  of  geographical  discovery  the  wonders  of  trie  world  we 
inhabit.  Interested,  herself,  in  the  subject  she  was  endea 
voring  to  portray,  the  children  hung  upon  her  words  with 
rapt  attention.  Still,  for  the  moment,  undetermined,  Mrs. 
Ellery  sank  into  a  seat  and  waited  her  opportunity.  Nod 
ding  pleasantly  to  her,  Mary  continued  her  work.  Sitting 
there  and  noting  the  beautiful  form  and  face,  and  the  ease 
with  which  she  guided  the  minds  of  her  little  hearers,  and 
realizing  the  terrible  shock  and  despair  in  store  for  her, 
Mrs.  Ellery  could  not  refrain  from  feeling  like  a  guilty 
thing,  in  that  she  was  preparing  to  destroy  present  happi 
ness  and  plunge  the  poor  girl  into  a  sea  of  misery. 

As  ever  with  her,  in  moments  of  trouble,  her  thoughts 
ascended  to  that  "  present  help  "  upon  which  her  mind  had 
come  to  lean.  "God  help  her,"  thought  she,  "and  may  I 
be  enabled  to  render  that  service  to  a  fellow  creature  to 
which  every  consideration  of  love  and  duty  impel  me!  M 

Occupied  with  her  anxious  thoughts,  the  poor  woman 
for  the  moment  forgot  her  determination,  and  as  the  ready 
tears  sprang  to  her  eyes,  half  a  sob  escaped  her.  Hastily 
wiping  her  eyes,  she  looked  up  to  see  if  she  had  been  ob 
served.  But  the  keen  and  observant  glance  of  the  young 


26O  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

teacher  had  already  noted  the  trouble  depicted  upon  her 
countenance  and,  hastily  dismissing  her  little  class,  came  at 
once  to  her  side. 

"  Something  troubles  you,  aunt,"  she  said;  "what  is  it? 
Can  I  assist  you?" 

"  Yes,"  said  she,  "  there  is  trouble  enough  at  our  house. 
You  must  dismiss  your  scholars,  and  go  home  with  me !  " 

"  But  school  will  soon  be  out;    will   not  that  answer?" 

u  No,  dear;   don't  question  me,  but  come  at  once!  " 

Dismissing  her  charges,  who,  with  wondering  faces 
gathered  about  her,  eager  for  the  reason  of  the  unusual 
proceeding,  she  gave  this  one  a  pleasant  word  and  the  next 
a  pat  upon  the  cheek  as  she  prepared  to  close  the  door. 

"  Children,"  said  Mrs.  Ellery,  "you  must  all  run  home 
and  not  trouble  Miss  Mary  now,  as  I  wish  to  talk  to  her. 
Charlie,  you  must  go  right  along  with  us!  " 

Taking  the  arm  of  her  friend  as  they  set  out,  Mary 
said:  "What  is  it,  aunt;  has  anything  happened  to  Mr. 
Ellery  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  other,  inwardly  seeking  pardon  for  the 
deception;  u  Mr.  Ellery  is  in  deep  trouble  at  the  house; 
don't  ask  me  further  until  we  get  there  !  " 

As  they  passed  through  the  principal  streets  of  the 
little  village,  the  sympathetic  and  sorrowful  faces  of  the 
people  they  met,  struck  poor  Mary  with  a  deep  and  indefin 
able  dread.  Setting  out  with  the  idea  that  duty  was  calling 
upon  her  to  minister  to  the  sorrows  of  others,  somehow  the 
feeling  grew  that  she  was  principally  concerned.  What 
could  it  be  ?  Had  anything  happened  to  her  father  ?  And 
instantly  the  thought  formed  itself  in  her  mind  that  all  was, 
well  with  him.  In  whatever  situation  placed,  he  had  done 
his  duty  and  quietly  and  bravely  met  whatever  of  good  or 
ill  had  been  given  him  as  his  portion.  The  spirit  within 
had  sustained  him.  Her  spirit  should  sustain  her,  and 
whatever  burden  of  sorrow  or  care  might  be  placed  upon  her 
shoulders,  she  would  accept  and  bear  it  as  became  so  true  a 
man. 


GEORGE   GRAFTON, 


LOOKING  FORWARD.  263 

How  wonderful  are  the  daily  evidences  of  mind  upon 
mind  !  Fix  your  thought  intently  upon  another  and,  if  not 
attracted  by  something  going  on  about  him,  he  turns  to  you 
as  the  needle  to  the  pole,  to  discover  the  source  of  the  un 
explained  attraction.  And  does  this  end  with  life?  And  if 
the  soul  still  lives,  why  may  it  not  continue  to  exert  a  power 
which  does  not  depend  upon  the  sight,  touch  or  hearing  of 
that  physical  body  which  has,  alone,  decayed? 

Walking  along  the  street,  the  unseen  influences 
emanating  from  the  people  she  met — and  who  will  hasten  to 
bar  his  thoughts  against  the  hallowed  influences  which  ma\ 
come  from  those  "angels  which  do  always  behold  the  face  of 
My  Father?  " — had  convinced  the  mind  of  the  devoted  girl 
that  upon  her  head  was  shortly  to  fall  a  crushing  blow,  and 
as  truly  pointed  her  thoughts  in  the  true  direction. 

Her  resolution   was  taken  ;    she    would    meet   wha 
came,  with  fortitude.     That,  for   the    moment,    the    spirit    of 
her  father  was  with   her,   she   felt,  rather   than    knew  ;   and 
who  shall  deny  J 

Coming  to  the   house,    Mrs.  HI  1  cry   directed  their  steps 
to  the  front  door,  contrary  to  the  usual  custom  of  the  family 
This,  of  itself,  was  a  revelation  to  Mary  ;     she  already  knew 
the  worst. 

As  they  entered,  Mr.  Ellery  met  them,  and,  opening  the 
parlor  door,  they  all  went  in  and  sat  down.  Taking  out  his 
handkerchief,  Mr.  Ellery  began  to  wipe  his  eyes,  while  his 
wife  burst  into  tears;  but  Mary  sat  with  rigid  face,  the  only 
sign  of  the  communion  within,  the  passionate  workings  oi 
her  clenched  and  bloodless  hands. 

As  Mrs  Ellery's  feelings  were  now  beyond  control,  the 
preacher,  also  deeply  affected  by  the  play  of  emotion  about 
him,  began  in  a  hesitating  and  stammering  fashion  : 

1  Prepare  yourself,  my  dear—    —for — for—  —the  worst!" 

"  I  am  prepared,"  said  she  ;  and  as  she  spoke,  so  hoarse 
and  stnvnge  was  the  sound  of  her  voice  that  she  wondered 
if,  indeed,  it  was  her  own. 

"  Your  father,  Mary,"  lie  brokenly  began,— but  she  did 
not  wait  for  him  to  finish— 


264 


LOOKING    FORWARD. 


"  I  know  it  all,"  she  said,  "he  is  dead!  Tell  me  the 
particulars !  And  may  God  call  me  to  account  if  I  fail  to 
remember  the  reason  of  the  death  of  both  my  father  and  my 
mother !  " 

She  could  no  longer  remain  in  her  chair,  and  rising, 
stood  pale  and  defiant,  her  hands  twitching  nervously,  one 
with  the  other.  Upon  the  table  she  saw  the  crumpled  bit  of 
yellow  paper  upon  which  was  written  the  telegram.  Taking 
it  in  her  hands,  she  read  it  calmly  through. 

"  Where  is  Charlie?  "  said  she  :  "he  followed  us  through 
the  street." 

Going  to  the  window,  she  saw  him  just  at  the  door, 
playing  with  a  dog  belonging  to  a  neighbor.  Quick  as  a 
flash,  she  was  at  the  door  and  down  the  steps.  Seizing  him 
by  the  hand,  she  hurried  him  within  the  house.  Taking 
him  on  her  lap,  "  big  boy  "  though  he  considered  himself, 
she  kissed  him  again  and  again. 

"Ah,  you  poor  little 
orphan,"  said  she, 
"  they  have  killed  our 
father  !  It  might  have 
been  expected !  We 
might  have  known  it 
would  be  so!  Now, 
you  are  all  that  is  left 
to  inc.'' 

Boy-like,  Charlie  be 
gan  to  cry,  and  the 
natural  womanly  ten 
derness,  which  for  the 
moment  had  been  in 
abeyance,  asserted  it 
self,  as  with  incoherent 
sobbings  and  mingled 
caresses,  she  fondled 
the  only  remaining 
member  of  her  family. 


LOOKING   FORWARD.  265 

Gradually  she  became  calm  again.  "And  what  must 
we  do  now?1'  said  she. 

"  Why,  my  child,  you  need  do  nothing.  We  will  see 
that  the  necessary  preparations  are  made,"  said  Mrs.  Ellery, 
who  by  this  time  could  trust  herself  to  speak. 

"Ah  !  I  must !  I  cannot  be  still.  I  should  go  mad  to 
sit  and  think.  I  will  not  again  be  so  weak.  Dear  aunt, 
you  have  been  so  kind  to  us  and  I  know  you  will  bear  with 
me  now,  but  I  must  be  employed  at  something.  Please  let 
me  help!  There  will  be  so  much  to  do." 

"  Why,  Mary,  you  know  I  was  thinking  only  of  you,' 
said  Mrs.  Ellery,  u  and  if  it  would  please  you  better,  do 
what  you  think  best !  " 

"  The  short  and  simple  annals  of  the  poor,"  are,  after 
all,  not  so  easily  told.  Human  hopes  and  fears,  with  intelli 
gent  people,  are  much  the  same,  in  whatever  walk  or  station 
of  life  fate  or  fortune  may  place  them.  Hope  beckons  to  all, 
and  allures  us  on.  Pleased  to  the  last,  we  greet  with  joy 
the  swift-coming  days  that  bear  us  on  to  a  fate  hid  behind 
the  curtain  of  the  future,  and  that  curtain — the  pall.  Yet 
does  not  hope  desert  us,  but,  like  an  angel  of  light,  bears  us 
company  upon  the  dreary  road  of  life,  and,  with  her  sweet 
whisperings  of  a  life  beyond,  beguiles  us  still.  Beguiles? 
Ah !  And  hath  hope  a  partnership  with  guile  ?  Blessed 
vision  !  Art  thou,  too,  a  vain  chimera  of  that  imagination  of 
man  which  forever  bewilders,  but  to  deceive? 

Perish  the  thought !  It  cannot,  must  not,  be  !  Hope 
is  the  evidence-  of  sanity  ;  the  proof  that  we  are.  For  whom 
she  hath  utterly  deserted  and  forsaken,  has  become  a  maniac, 
and  ceased  to  be. 

Tossing  upon  her  bed,  now  lost  in  dreams  and  now 
staring  with  wide-open  eyes  into  the  dark,  whose  depths 
revealed  no  friendly  face,  Mary  wore  the  night  away. 
Again  she  was  a  child,  and  felt  her  mother's  hand  resting 
in  peace  upon  her  thoughtless  head,  and  as  she  awoke  and 
felt  her  loss,  an  unutterable  longing  for  death  seized  upon 
her.  Oh,  that  she  could  but.  die  and  leave  a  world  so  full  of 


266  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

trouble  as  this  !  But  the  thought  of  Charlie  recalled  her. 
Dear  little  fellow,  she  would  live  for  him  !  Again,  in  dreams, 
her  father's  proud  and  kindly  gaze  was  upon  her,  his  face 
was  white  as  the  light,  care,  there  was  none,  and  peace  had 
come.  She  woke  with  a  start.  Alas!  there  was  nothing 
real  but  sorrow  and  pain. 

Slowly,  the  morning  dawned,  and  day  at  last  appeared. 
A  funeral  day  !  His  funeral  !  .But  she  would  be  brave  ! 
She  would  so  live  and  act  as  to  meet  their  approval!  If  they 
knew?  Did  they  know?  Surely,  what  was  so  much  de 
sired  must  be  true.  No  deep  and  holy  longing  of  the  soul 
could  fail  in  its  mission.  It  would  not  return  void  to  the 
heart  of  love. 

The  contents  of  the  telegram  known,  the  idle  popula 
tion  of  the  little  village  gathered  at  the  station  as  the  train 
drew  up.  An  elderly,  kindly-faced  man  in  a  suit  of  gray, 
was  the  only  passenger  to  alight.  Walking  forward  to  the 
express  car  he  assisted  the  messenger  in  depositing  upon 
the  platform  the  rough  box  containing  the  coffin.  A  few 
hurried  words  with  the  station-agent,  who  came  to  the  corner 
of  the  platform  and  pointed  to  Mr.  Ellery's  house,  and  the 
stranger  walked  rapidly  towards  the  point  to  which  he  had 
been  directed.  He  had  gone  but  a  few  steps,  when  ho  met 
Mr.  Hllery,  hastening  to  the  train. 

u  You  are  Mr.  Greene,  I  suppose?  "   said  he. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  man,  ik  and  you  are  Mr.  Ellery  ;  I  have 
come  upon  a  sorrowful  errand.  I  was  instrumental  in  in 
ducing  my  friend,  Grafton,  to  undertake  the  work  in  which 
he  lost  his  life,  and  now  I  am  here  to  bury  him." 

A  few  words  of  consultation  with  friends  who  stood 
near,  a  little  time  spent  in  arranging  the  preliminaries,  and 
the  coffin  was  deposited  in  the  parlor  at  the  parsonage. 

The  funeral  ceremonies  were,  as  with  the  others,  cold, 
formal  and  silent.  Many  were  in  attendance,  for  the  tragic 
nature  of  his  death  attracted  those  to  whom  mere  respect 
would  have  appealed  in  vain. 


LOOKING     FORWARD.  267 

Mary  and  Charlie,  with  Mrs.  Ellery,  took  their  last 
look  in  the  parlor  and  alone.  No  one  was  near,  and  no  one 
knew  the  agony  of  that  hour.  Afterward,  no  sign  was  made. 
Heavily  veiled,  the  daughter  of  the  murdered  man  betrayed 
to  the  casual  beholder  no  emotion,  and  thus  the  weary  wait 
ings  and  solemn  pauses  of  the  funeral  went  by,  to  her,  un 
heeded  and  uncontrolled. 

After  all  was  over,  the  family  at  the  parsonage  gathered 
m  the  parlor  and  Mr.  Greene  related  the  particulars  of  the 
death,  paying  the  highest  tribute  possible  to  the  courage 
and  devotion  of  him  who  had  gone.  Mary  asked  but  few 
questions  ;  she  seemed  to  know  it  all.  Charlie  regarded  all 
tearfully,  but  to  his  sister  his  eyes  returned  and  from  her 
he  took  the  color  of  his  thoughts ;  indeed,  he  seemed  to 
receive  his  impressions  as  reflected  from  her. 

Days  came  and  went ;  the  nine  days  wonder  of  the 
tragedy  had  ceased  to  attract;  but  from  it,  in  part,  proceeded 
a  still  stronger  determination  to  press  to  a  decision  the 
questions  which  Grafton  had  propounded  and  for  which  the 
public  had  come  to  believe  he  had  sacrificed  his  life.  Mon- 
>ter  petitions  were  circulated  asking  the  Governor  to  con 
vene  the  legislature.  Immense  meetings,  fired  with  zeal, 
were  held  at  different  places  throughout  the  State,  and 
enthusiasm  was  at  fever  heat.  Again,  the  partisan  press  of 
the  State  acknowledged,  by  their  plaintive  tones,  the  truth: 
that  public  opinion  is  the  master  of  all  ;  and  to  it,  perforce, 
they  bowed  once  more. 

Finally,  Governor  Hrown  issued  his  proclamation  call 
ing  an  "extra  session." 


LOOKJNC,    FORWARD. 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

TIIK    CONFLICT     COXTIM   KS. 

the    legislators   began    to  gather 
at  Topeka,  all  thought  was,  for 
the     time,     concentrated     upon 
the  demands   which    had   been 
made  by  the  farmers'  organiza 
tions.        Strong    ground     was 
taken  both  for  and  against,  and 
it  became  evident  that  dilatory  tac 
tics  would  no  longer  avail. 

The  opposition  based  its  claims 
to  support  upon  the  assertion  that  the 
proposed  legislation  would  be  an  act 
of  bad  faith  and  practical  repudiation. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  was  argued 
that  the  political  compact,  which  forms  the  foundation  upon 
which  all  just  states  and  nations,  and  even  civilization  and 
liberty  itself,  are  placed,  requires  all  legislation  to  be  based 
upon  the  general  public  good. 

The  State  was  simply  the  agent  of  the  whole  people, 
and  any  intervention  in  the  private  affairs  of  her  citizens 
could  only  be  allowed  upon  the  supposition  that  thereby  the 
general  good  of  all  would  be  secured.  Legislation,  upon 
any  ground  other  than  the  general  good,  was  tyrannical  and 
unjust.  The  State  interfered  in  the  dealings  of  citizens  and 
proceeded  to  the  forcible  collection  of  debts  due  from  one  to 
another,  not  upon  the  ground  of  favoritism  to  the  creditor, 
but  simply  because  it  had  been  supposed  and  held  that  this 
forcible  interference  had  been  for  the  general  good,  aifd  if  it 
could  be  shown  that  such  interference  and  assistance  ren 
dered  to  one  party,  was  contrary  to  the  best  interests  of  the 
general  public,  that,  therefore,  such  legislation  was  opposed 
to  all  the  requirements  of  a  just  public  policy  and,  therefore, 
void,  and  the  very  ground  upon  which  it  was  placed  was  not 


MARY    GRAFTON 
Plaiqville  School    Teacher. 


LOOKING   FORWARD. 

only  unrepublican  in  theory  and  untenable  in  law,  but 
vicious,  tyrannical,  and  unjust  in  its  effects. 

Previous  to  the  meeting  of  the  legislature,  those  who 
had  engaged  to  support  the  "demands"  were  called  to 
gether,  that  they  might  take  counsel,  one  with  the  other. 
These  came  from  the  ranks  of  all  parties  ;  but  as  the  pre 
vious  session  had  taught  them  that  a  closer  union  was  an 
absolute  necessity,  and  that  they  could  not  succeed  if  they 
allowed  the  claims  of  other  organizations,  the  natural  and 
inevitable  result  was  the  formation  of  a  new  party,  that 
bound  its  members  to  support  and  defend  the  course  marked 
out.  Having  secured  this  closer  organixation,  the  lower 
house  at  once  passed  the  bills,  prepared  at  the  previous 
session. 

The  Senate  refused  to  concur,  and  proposed  amendment 
after  amendment,  but  the  House  remained  immovable. 

After  much  time  spent  in  wrangling  had  passed,  the 
House,  by  a  majority  resolution,  adjourned,  and  the  mem 
bers  repaired  to  their  homes,  with  the  understanding  that 
their  speaker  should  at  once  call  them  together,  whenever 
the  Senate  was  ready  to  pass  the  original  bills.  The  Senate 
remained  in  session,  and,  issuing  an  address  to  the  people, 
in  which  the  capitalistic  side  of  the  controversy  was  most 
ably  and  cunningly  stated,  appeared  to  be  preparing  for  a 
long  and  arduous  struggle.  No  sooner  had  the  House  of 
Representatives  adjourned  than  excitement  among  the  peo 
ple  of  the  State  became  intense.  Public  meetings  were 
everywhere  held,  attended  by  vast  crowds  of  people. 
Eminent  men  upon  both  sides  made  the  welkin  ring  with 
their  denunciations,  and  feeling  rose  quickly  to  fever  heat. 

Those  who  held  to  the  justice  and  expediency  of  the 
demands  made  originally  by  the  farmers,  dubbed  their 
opponents  "Monopolists"'  and  "Tories."  The  so-called 
monopolists,  however,  sought  to  take  high  moral  ground  in 
all  their  addresses,  and  spoke  chiefly  of  the  sacredness  of 
the  rights  of  property,  the  inviolability  of  contracts,  and 


272 


LOOKING  FORWARD. 


descanted  at  great  length  upon   "  public  honor,"    tk  plighted 
faith,"  and  the  rights  of  "  investors." 

The  others,  in  making  reply,  denied  any  intention  of 
interfering  with  the  rights  of  property,  and  demanded  that 
those  who  held  bonds,  notes  and  mortgages  as  property, 
should  not  be  placed  in  a  position  to  impose  upon  those 
interested  in  property  of  another  kind.  "  It  is,"  said  they, 
lia  struggle  between  the  holders  of  two  classes  of  property  ; 
and  the  dealers  in  money,  notes  and  mortgages  refuse  to  be 
satisfied  unless  they  and  their  interests  are  placed  in  a  pre 
ferred  position,  where  they  are  enabled  to  impose  upon  the 
holders  of  productive  property,  while  they,  themselves,  pro 
duce  nothing  of  value. 

Thus  the  struggle  went  on  and  the  excitement  showed 
no  signs  of  abatement.  In  many  places,  riotous  proceed 
ings  were  indulged  in,  and  a  general  feeling  of  unrest  and 
alarm  began  to  take  possession  of  the  public  mind. 

Plain ville  showed  but  little  change. 

"Uncle   Bill"  continued  to  hammer  away  in  his  little 
shop  and  Mr.  Ellery   to   deliver   his   weekly   sermons.      As 
elsewhere,  the  people  took  sides, 
and  the  questions  which  agitated 
the  public  mind   \vere   discussed  , 
with  great  heat  and  earnestness. 
As  the  people  of  the  village  were 
close    sympathy     with    the 


in 


farmers,   depending    entirely 

upon  them  for  whatever  business 

the   town  enjoyed,    feeling   was 

almost   altogether    with    them. 

Upon  rare  occasions,  those  more 

interested  in  what  was  going  on 

around  them  went  to  Branchville 

to  attend  a  "big  speaking,"  when 

some  noted  man  held  forth,  upon  one  side  or  the  other,  in 

the  great  controversy,  but  for  the   most  part  the  place  was 

sleepy  enough. 


LOOKING    FORWARD*  273 

Mary  was  often  seen  in  company  with  Mrs  Ellery, 
upon  the  street  or  riding  in  the  rather  antiquated  carriage, 
which  the  preacher  called  his  own.  She  had  finished  her 
school,  with  only  a  week's  intermission  at  the  time  of  her 
father's  funeral,  and  now,  during  the  summer  vacation,  was 
very  quietly  engaged  in  assisting  Mrs.  Kllery,  both  in  the 
household  and  in  the  usual  visiting  and  managing,  con 
sidered  the  duty  of  a  pastor's  wife.  No  Sunday-school 
picnic  was, — or  as  it  seemed. — could  be  conducted  to  a  suc 
cessful  end  without  her  aid.  Every  one  deferred  to  her, 
^md  whatever  she  advised  seemed  to  all  concerned  the 
thing  to  do.  In  appearance  she  had  changed  but  little; 
mild,  gentle  and  cheerful,  a  slightly-increased  seriousness 
rather  added  to  the  charm  of  manner  with  which  kind 
nature  had  invested  her.  That  the  trials  of  life  have  for 
all  who  will  heed,  a  useful  and  benificent  end,  was  manifest 
in  her. 

For  without  these,  the  wayward  scholar  in  the  school 
of  life  remains  forever  ignorant  of  those  sublime  glimpses 
into  the  depths  which  make  the  mind  of  man  or  woman 
the  kingdom  it  is  destined,  in  riper  natures,  to  become. 
<  liildren  we  are,  and  children  we  must  remain,  ever  look 
ing  for  the  unfolding  of  that  time  when  we  shall  be  able  to 
read  the  riddle  of  our  lives. 

As  may  be  surmised,  an  occasional  letter  had  reached 
Plainville,  written  by  < Jeorgc  Maitland.  From  California, 
where  lie  had  tarried  during  the  winter,  lie  had  passed  to 
Alaska,  and  his  description  of  the  great  glacier  and  of  the 
wonders  of  this  new  terra  incognita  were  eagerly  read  by 
the  little  circle  at  the  parsonage,  (ienerally,  his  letters 
had  been  addressed  to  Mr.  Fllery;  pails  of  these,  however, 
that  gentleman,  glancing  hurriedly  over  the  pages,  had 
failed  to  read  to  his  ready  listener-.  A  few  had  been 
directed  to  Mary,  and  these  and  their  very  lively  and 
entertaining  contents  were  most  readily  shared  with  her 
friends.  In  one  of  these  he  had  said  that  on  his  return  to 
his  home  in  Massachusetts  he  should  again  call  upon  his 


274  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

friends  in  Kansas,  but  he  had  named  no  date,  and  his 
immediate  advent  had  not  been  expected. 

That  the  people  at  the  parsonage  were  surprised  when, 
one  fine  summer  morning,  he  made  his  appearance  and 
claimed  their  hospitality,  may  very  readily  be  imagined  : 
for  everything,  which  has  not  become,  by  constant  repiti- 
tion,  hackneyed  and  usual,  is  met  by  the  natural  mind 
with  wonder  and  amazement,  more  or  less  pronounced. 

Maitland's  absence  from  Kansas  and  her  who  had  in 
spired  in  his  heart  that  genuine  admiration  of  substantial 
qualities,  which  is  alone  the  sure  ground  of  a  lasting  and 
life-long  love,  had  served  but  to  increase  his  appreciation 
and  respect  for  what  he  had  oome  to  regard  as  a  perfect 
character.  It  was  evident  to  him  that,  so  far,  at  least,  he 
had  utterly  failed  to  awaken  in  her  that  eminent  regard  for 
himself  which  he  had  come  to  feel  was  a  necessity  to  his 
peace  of  mind  and  future  success. 

The  thought  of  Mary,  which  in  his  mind's  eye,  had 
taken  shape  as  that  of  a  beautiful  vision,  following  him  in 
all  his  wanderings  with  a  mild  and  seemingly  heavenly 
radiance,  had  assumed,  for  him,  a  perfect  form  and  an 
angelic  significance.  And  yet,  so  wonderful  is  the  power 
of  an  absorbing  love,  that  when  he  had  felt  the  pressure  of 
her  hand  and  looked  into  the  liquid  depths  of  her  eyes,  he 
was  convinced  that  the  half  had  not  been  told — or  even 
thought. 


'The  Effect  Upon  His  Audience  was  Electrical/ 


LOOKING    FORWARD. 


277 


C1I  APTKR      X  X  Y  II. 

THK    \'K\V    t'MNVKRT. 

HE  subliiiK-  poetry  of  tin-  ]>;ist 
sures  us  that  "tin-  Spirit  moved 
upon  the  face  of  the  waters,'  for  the 
unfolding  of  all  which  has  since- 
appeared  ;  and  upon  the  poetical 
truth  ol  this,  all  men  are  agreed.  Xo  deed, 
without  a  thought  as  it's  father.  In  figu 
rative  and  most  expressive  language  we 
are  also  told  that  "man  lives  only  by  every 
word  that  proceedeth  out  of  the  mouth  of 
God''  The  telegraphic  instrument  merely  records  the 
messages  given  to  it;  it  does  not  create  them.  Only 
children  think  it.  does.  In  like  manner,  the  brain  of  man 
is  impressed  by  the  thought  which  elsewhere  takes  its  rise. 
Man  is  not  the  creator.  Only  fools  think  he  is.  The 
work  of  .creation  is  still  in  progress. 


\ .  :_~. 


As  in  the  days  preceding  the  war  of  the  rebellion,  the 
prevailing  and  controlling  thought  of  men  was  directed 
against  an  evil,  so  in  the  time  of  which  I  write,  the  thought 
of  the  day  was  being  moved  to  consider  yd  other  evils. 
The  ferment  of  Democracy  was  leavening  the  public  mind, 
and  although  men  still  continued  to  hold  out  against  its 
power,  that  it  was  gradually  leavening  the  whole  lump, 
could  not  be  disputed.  The  Spirit  was  moving  upon  the 
face  ol  the  waters. 

Maitland,  too,  had  felt  its  power.  His  early  conver 
sations  with  Mary  had  put  him  upon  a  train  of  thought,  at 
that  time,  new  to  him.  Previously,  he  had  given  the  sub 
jects  which  she  brought  up,  no  attention.  He  had  been 
reading  of  late,  he  said,  and  trusted  that  something  had 
been  learned.  Like  new  converts,  too,  he  was  full  of  zeal. 
Something  must  be  done  ! 


278  LOOKING   FORWARD. 

Mr  Ellery  had  been  giving  Sunday  evening  "  talks,'' 
or  lectures,  in  his  church,  upon  subjects  relating  to  the 
questions  of  the  time,  and  he  invited  the  young  preacher  to 
occupy  his  pulpit  in  this  course  of  lectures  on  the  first  Sun 
day  after  his  arrival.  His  theme  was  'The  New  Christ 
ianity,"  by  which  he  explained  he  meant  the  modern  appli 
cation  of  the  precepts  of  the  religion  of  Christ. 

The  church  was  crowded  to  hear  the  young  man,  notices 
of  the  lecture  having  been  given  out  in  the  morning,  and 
here  his  college  training  stood  him  in  good  stead.  He  was 
what  is  called  "a  good  speaker,"  with  fine  voice  and  com 
manding  presence,  and  although  his  enthusiastic  advocacy 
of  what  seemed  to  his  audience  to  be  very  radical  and  social 
istic  sentiments,  was  listened  to  with  the  closest  attention, 
they  evidently  scarcely  knew  just  what  to  think  or  say. 
The  abolition  of  competition  and  strife,  and  its  replacement 
by  association  and  mutual  assistance,  they  appeared  to  think 
would  be  very  fine  in  some  future  state  of  existence,  but 
scarce!}-  possible  in  this.  But  when,  near  the  close  of  his 
address,  summoning  all  his  powers,  he  portrayed  the  results 
of  such  a  course  of  action  as  he  declared  the  gospel  demanded, 
the  effect  upon  his  hearers  was  most  marked. 

c<  By  as  much,  '  said  he  "as  man  is  above  money,  love 
beyond  strife,  and  duty  higher  than  the  promptings  of  sel 
fish  greed,  let  us,  forgetting  the  things  that  are  behind, 
press  forward  in  the  race  toward  that  goal,  now  in  the  imme 
diate  future,  which  has  ever  held  the  eyes  of  all  the  poets 
and  prophets  of  the  past.  If  we  bnt  will  it,  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  is  at  hand." 

Coming  out  of  the  little  church,  Mary  could  not  refrain 
from  expressing  the  pleasure  she  felt  in  hearing  what  she 
had  vainly  endeavored  to  formulate,  so  well  expressed. 

"You  know,  Mr.  Maitland,"  said  she,  "that  our  Plain- 
ville  people  had  never  heard  you  in  public,  and  I  am  sure 
they  will  be  pleased  with  your  address." 

"And  were  you  pleased  ?  "  said  he. 


*;    loKWAKM).  279 

'Yes,"  said  she,  quite  frankly,  "  I  was  more  than 
pleased.  I  was  surprised." 

"And  may  I  ask  why  you  were  surprised?"  said  IK-. 

"  No,  I  don't  think  you  should  inquire  too  closely  ;  but 
one  thing  does  surprise  me  somewhat,  and  that  is  that  you 
should  be  able  to  give  so  fine  a  delineation  of  motives  and 
principles  to  which  you  almost  refused  assent  only  a  few 
months  ago.'' 

"As  to  that,"  said  he,  "  I  can  only  say  that  my  attention 
had  not  been  particularly  called  to  these  matters  up  to  the 
time  of  my  visit  to  Kansas." 

Arrived  at  the  parsonage,  Mr.  Ellery  and  his  wife  joined 
in  the  warmest  expressions  of  approval  and  endorsement. 

4i  I  know  now,"  said  Mr.  Ellery,  "just  what  it  seems  to 
11  R-  you  should  do,  George!  " 

"And  what  is  it?"  said  he. 

u  Speaking  upon  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  it  appears 
clear  to  me  that  you  should  devote  yourself  to  the  spread  of 
the  ideas  to  which  you  have  just  given  expression.  You  are 
young,  have  abundant  means  and  are  not  obliged  to  tie 
yourself  down  to  a  stupid  parish,  or  a  set  of  stupid  parish- 
oners,  and  live  in  daily  fear  of  saying  something  which  they 
may  not  be  able  to  receive..  In  your  case  and  with  your 
means  and  abilities  I  should  take  Wendall  Phillips  as  my 
model  and  launch  bravely  forth  as  an  agitator/1 

"  Something  of  this  kind  has  already  passed  in  my 
thought,"  said  Maitland,  speaking  slowly  and  with  evident 
hesitation,  "  and  I  presume  that  I  could  follow  Phillips, — at 
least,  afar  off." 

"  You  would  be  hated  and  subjected  to  abuse,  no  doubt,  ' 
said  Mr.  Ellery:  ""but  when  once  fully  enlisted  in  your 
work  you  would  "be  happier,  far,  than  in  any  other  walk  of 
life.  People  who  know  not  of  it,  cannot  understand  the 
enthusiasm  for  humanity  which  takes  complete  possession 
<if  the  man  who  gives  himself  to  the  cause  of  human  free 
dom.  His  work  /Htssfsscs  him  ;  and  even  common  men  and 
ordinary  natures  are  touched  as  with  a  coal  of  fire  from  off 


280  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

the   altar,  by  their  advocacy  of  the  imperiled  rights  of  men.'* 

Mrs.  Ellery  added  a  few  words,  saying  that  she  thought 
Mr.  Ellery  right  in  what  he  had  said,  as  he  generally  was. 

"And  what  do  you  say,  Mary  ?  "  said  Mr.  Ellery 

11  Of  course,"  said  she,  "I  am  not  competent  to  advise 
Mr  Maitland  as  to  what  he  should  do,  but  this  I  know :  that 
if  I  were  he,  nothing  should  prevent  me  from  making  my 
self  heard." 

As  Mary  spoke,  so  firm  and  determined  were  the  tones 
and  accent  of  her  voice  and  so  keen  the  flash  of  her  eye,  as 
with  unthinking  force  she  expressed  her  thought,  that  Mrs. 
Ellery,  who  sat  near  her,  said,  as  she  placed  her  arm  about 
her:  uOh,  you  dear  little  rebel!  They'd  just  have  to  hear  you; 
though  I  am  sure  they  would  wish.  to.  I  know  I  should.1' 

Mary  blushed,  as  she  said  :  "  Why,  aunt,  did  I  speak 
so  strongly  as  that  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  dear!  You  said  nothing  out  of  the  way  ;  but 
you  are  so  earnest  and  determined  that  I  should  not  like  to 
undertake  to  thwart  you.  I  know  we  all  ought  to  be  posi 
tive  and  determined  in  a  good  cause." 

1  If  you  will  speak  upon  these  topics,"  said  Mr.  Ellery, 
"  I  can  put  you  in  communication  with  parties  who  will  be 
glad  to  make  appointments  for  you.  They  will  see  that 
your  expenses  are  paid,  and  may  possibly  be  able  to  give 
you  something  beside;  but  it  will  be  but  little  that  they  can 
do  for  you  in  that  line.  Although  the  work  would  not  be 
remunerative,  the  experience  would  be  valuable,  and  you 
could,  in  this  way,  make  trial  of  what,  no  doubt,  would 
prove  an  interesting  experience." 

Long  after  the  ladies  had  retired,  the  two  gentlemen 
remained  in  earnest  consultation  upon  the  topics  suggested 
by  the  lecture. 

41  This  is  a  time  of  great  change,  an  era  of  transition," 
said  Mr.  Ellery;  u  the  fountains  of  the  great  deep  of  thought 
are  broken  up;  one  can  scarcely  say  what  may  come  now.'' 

"  I  look,"  replied  Maitland,  ''  upon  the  deep-seated  un 
rest,  which  has  taken  possession  of  the  public  mind,  in  this. 


LOOKINV.    FORWARD.  28l 

way  :  It  is  tin-  old,  old  struck-  tor  larger  liberty  and  grcater 
freedoin,  now,  in  these  later  years,  taking  on  a  new  phase. 
(  )nee,  this  aspiration  of  men  took  the  shape  of  a  demand  for 
religions  freedom;  that  was  the  eoneeption  in  Luther's  day  ; 
next,  the  thought  of  Washington's  time  was  politieal  liberty. 
Largely,  in  both  instanees,  the  impulse  was  the  same.  Moth 
steps  were  necessary  ;  both  were  in  the  right  direetion,  and 
both  have  been  successfully  taken.  But,  manifestly,  all  to 
be  gained  for  man  was  not  then  accomplished.  Now,  there 
is  another  step  just  ahead,  as  important — indeed,  it  seems  t<> 
be  more  so— and  that  is,  eeonomie  liberty  ;  the  freedom  ot 
the  toiler  from  the  exaetions  of  those  who  live  in  the  sweat 
of  his  faee.  Of  eonrse,  we  must  acknowledge  that  this  is  a 
new  departure  in  the  historv  ol  our  storm-swept  and  sin- 
en  rsed  world.  Like  Columbus,  we  sail  boldly  forward  into 
an  untried  sea.  There  are  no  precedents.  Bnt  the  new  the 
ology, — -that  grander  view  of  (rod's  love  and  eare  and  of  the 
brotherhood  of  man, — leads  us  on.  The  first, — that  is  Lu 
ther's  eoneeption — meant  a  free  mind,  free  thought,  free- 
belief.  The  second  meant  a  free  country  and  a  free  vote. 
Xow,  we  want  free  men  and  free  women  ;  freedom  from  the 
control  and  domination  of  our  specially  and  legally  favored 
brothers  and  sisters.  The  right  to  life?  Why,  that  really 
means  a  right  to  a  living,  or  it  means  nothing  at  all.  It 
means  a  right  to  the  natural  opportunities  for  obtaining  one 
by  the  exercise  of  one's  own  labor,  free  from  tribute  imposed 
by  anybody.  Where  did  any  man  get  ik  the  right  "  to  pre 
vent  his  brother  from  enjoying  the  free  gifts  of  God  to  all  ? 
Liberty  ?  Why,  that  means  freedom  from  the  payment  ot 
tribute  to  those  who  unjustly  demand  it.  How  could  a  man 
be  free  who  wasn't?  Why  longer  juggle  with  words?  Tin- 
right  of  all  to  f>it)-*nc  happiness  means  the  ability  of  all  to 
obtain  it.  If  all  cannot  obtain  it,  because  denied  to  natural 
bounties,  the  right  is  denied.  But  we  mean  that  in  the  near 
future  all  shall  be  put  in  the  possession  of  those  rights 
which  it  is  a  self-evident  proposition,  were  originally  given 
to  all  bv  the  Creator.  This  is  what  we  are  after;  that  is 


282  LOOKING  FORWARD. 

the  bed-rock  fact  in  the  whole  business  :  the  restoration  of 
all  of  the  rights  and  privileges  given  them  by  God.  And  we 
are  going  to  obtain  these  rights  by  taking  away  the  special 
privileges  of  those  who  now,  by  means  of  these  same  special 
privileges,  are  enabled  to  prevent,  and  do  prevent,  their 
brothers  and  sisters  from  enjoying  the  favors  of  a  common 
Father.  I  suppose  they  will  hire  poor  men  to  fight  for 
them,  to  fight  to  obtain  their  advantage  over  the  common 
herd ;  holders  of  special  privilege  have  always  done  so. 
Sometimes,  they  have  fought  themselves.  And  what  a 
shame  it  is,  Mr.  Ellery,  that  in  every  country,  the  organized 
church  has  always  sided  with  power  and  opposed  itself  to 
the  rising  demand  for  enlarged  freedom  !  But  all  this  will 
make  no  difference  in  the  result.  The  upward  progress  of 
the  race  cannot  be  stayed  ;  the  power  of  God  is  behind  it ; 
and  just  as  surely  as  the  two  former  steps  have  been  taken, 
and  successfully  taken,  so  surely  will  the  third  be  accom 
plished.  A  world  of  trouble  and  loss  may  stand  between  us 
and  final  success,  but  it  will  not  prevent  our  ultimate  vic 
tory!" 

"  People  will  tell  you,  George,  that  you  intend  'dividing 
up  the  wealth  of  the  rich  among  the  poor,  if  you  speak  so 
plainly." 

u  Yes,  no  doubt  of  it ;  but  it  will  be  the  '  stop  thief  cry 
of  the  thief,  in  his  effort  to  divert  attention  from  himself. 
The  fact  is,  our  effort  is  solely  an  endeavor  to  prevail  on  the 
rich  to  stop  their  never-ending  robbery  of  the  poor.  Just 
that  and  nothing  more.  The  truth  is,  we  are  willing  that 
they  shall  keep  the  proceeds  of  past  robbery  if  they  will 
only  stop  stealing  for  the  future.  But  this  is  the  source  of 
all  the  present  social  unrest :  the  desire  of  the  wealthy  and 
the  strong  to  seize,  under  the  name  of  rent,  profit  or  interest, 
some  portion  of  the  product  of  labor.  The  products  of  labor 
must  be  had,  or  men  will  die.  Now  there  are  just  three 
ways,  and  only  three,  of  obtaining  them :  to  work  for  them  ; 
to  receive  them  as  a  gift ;  or  to  obtian  them  as  the  result  of 


I.OOKINV,     FORWARD.  283 

some  form  of  fraud.  4  We  must  all  work  or  steal,  howsoe'r 
we  name  our  stealing.' ' 

"  You  put  it  pretty  strongly,''  said  Mr    Ellery. 

"  Oh,  yes;  maybe  so;  but  not  a>  strongly  ;is  the  facts 
will  warrant.  Why  just  look  at  it :  all  the  great  names  in 
the  endless  struggle  for  liberty  ;  our  own  declaration  of 
independence  ;  all  the  constitutions,  state  and  national  ;  all 
the  national  saviours  and  sages  of  the  past;  all  the  poets 
and  prophets  of  freedom,  substantially  agree  in  declaring 
Lhat  the  end  and  aim  of  all  just  government  among  men  is 
the  preservation  and  maintenance  of  the  natural,  inalienable 
and  imprescriptable  rights  of  man.  They  agree  that  this  is 
the  sole  foundation  of  freedom  among  men;  that  these  natu 
ral,  or  God-given  rights  and  privileges,  cannot  be  rightful ly 
abrogated  or  impaired  in  the  smallest  particular ;  that  eter 
nal  vigilance  is  the  price  of  liberty.  And  yet  in  spite  of  all 
this,  and  more  which  might  be  mentioned,  the  principal 
business  of  the  men  of  wealth  and  'position  '  among  us,  is  in 
the  line  of  hedging  in,  abridging  or  denying,  in  one  way  or 
another,  these  rights.  In  short,  the  business  of  the  power 
ful,  and  the  aim  of  the  laws  which  they  cause  to  be  enacted, 
is  to  make  it  easy,  through  their  control  of  land  and  ex 
change,  to  steal  from  the  poor  the  sacred  rights  of  men.'" 

'  Why,  I  declare,  George,  you  are  getting  radical." 

"  Yes,  I  hope  so ;  that  is,  that  I  am  getting  down  to  the 
roots  of  the  social  difficulty.  But  do  I  not  speak  the  truth?" 

"  Yes,  of  course  you  do  ;  but  it  is  not  usual  for  those 
who  think  as  you  do  to  speak  so  plainly." 

"  No,  I  know  it  isn't,  and  right  there  is  where  trouble 
begins;  manv  of  us  do  not  dare  to  speak  the  truth.  Being 
obliged  to  choose  between  God  and  Mammon,  we  shut  our 
eyes  to  the  truth,  or  endeavor  to.  But  the  enormous  wicked 
ness  of  the  present  Mammonistic  control  of  things,  for  which 
we  are  all,  in  some  st-nst-,  to  blame,  cannot  be  much  longer 
hid.  Look,  for  instance,  at  the  ignorant  and  degraded 
children  of  poverty  in  every  town  !  Men  tell  us  that  these 
poor  creatures  have  made  themselves  what  they  are  ;  that 


284  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

drunkenness  and  vice  have  made  them  poor.  In  the  main 
this  is  not  true.  Look  at  their  surroundings  !  Why,  they 
could  n't  be  anything  else  !  Good  men,  well-meaning  men, 
but  blinded  by  prejudice  and  preconceived  opinion,  have  put 
the  cart  before  the  horse.  The  facts  will  show  that  nine 
times  out  of  ten  poverty  has  made  them  drunken  and 
vicious ;  and  poverty  has  been  forced  upon  them  by  men 
who  make  the  material  conditions  which  surround  the  com 
mon  herd.  The  average  man  don't  make  conditions.  Con 
ditions  make  him.  And  conditions  are  made  for  men  when 
their  natural  or  God-given  rights  are  taken  from  them  by 
means  of  the  special  privileges  granted  the  few.  Men  tell 
us  that  no  special  privilege  is  given  when  wealth  is  allowed 
by  law  to  do  what  poverty  cannot,  and  I  suppose  some  quite 
respectable  people  really  believe  it.  Why,  they  might  as 
well  enact  that  strong  men  may  do  what  weak  ones  shall 
not!  Bah  !  what  nonsense,  and  how  easily  men  are  deceived! 
Conditions  surrounding  the  average  man  make  him  what 
he  is  ;  he  don't  create  himself.  God  has  n  t  given  up  his 
sovereignty ;  the  allegory  of  Genesis  still  applies.  Any 
man  capable  of  thought  can  see  that  the  Esquimaux,  as  an 
instance,  is  the  natural  result  of  the  conditions  surrounding 
him  ;  but  he  is  no  more  the  product  of  his  surroundings 
than  are  the  squalid  and  vicious  children  of  poverty  the 
inevitable  result  of  the  conditions  forced  upon  them  by  legal 
privileges  in  the  hands  of  selfish  men.  Why  God  allows 
these  men  to  do  as  they  are  doing,  is  beyond  me.  But  it  is 
evident  in  all  the  history  of  the  past  that  He  has  allowed 
wicked  and  selfish  men  to  bring  great  misery  upon  their 
fellows.  It  must  needs  be,  I  suppose,  that  offences  come, 
but  woe  unto  them  by  whom  they  come." 

"  It  is  too  true,  the  facts  are  with  you/'  said  Mr.  Ellery, 
"  although  they  may  seem  to  oppose  some  of  our  theology. 
But,  George,  you  are  dwelling  too  much  upon  the  dark  side 
of  things  ;  you  forget,  for  the  moment,  that  we  are  going  to 
change  all  this.  We  are  going  to  make  conditions,  our 
selves,  and  make  them  better;  and  it  is  one  of  the  grandest 


\  Kit.  285 

thoughts  possible  to  mzm  that  in  this  way  we  shall  b 
workers  with  God  in  lifting  men.  Of  course  it  will  be  dom- 
by  the  use  of  ordinary  and  e  very-day  methods;  by  the  pass 
age  of  laws.  The  household  exemption  will  finally  give 
every  family  that  wishes  it,  a  free  home  upon  the  soil- 
This  will  settle  for  good  the  labor  question.  An  opportunity 
to  employ  one's  self  settles  the  matter  of  wages,  and  gradu 
ally  a  refuge  of  this  kind  will  be  opened  up  for  all.  Then, 
there  need  be  no  "unemployed".  Then,  the-  laborer  ean 
aeeept  or  reject  wages  offered.  He  will  be  independent. 
In  short,  lie  will,  in  this  way,  secure  his  independence. 
This  will  free  him.  Nothing  else  ever  will.  Most  attract 
ive  and  pleasant  farm  villages  will  then  become  possible,  for 
under  the  influence  of  homestead  exemptions  it  will  be  un 
profitable  to  hold  large  tracts  of  land.  Holding  small  farm^ 
with  no  great  estates  between,  the  farmers  can  be  brought 
closely  together,  their  available  lands  in  long  narrow  fields, 
with  common  pasturage  at  a  greater  distance,  as  is  now 
practiced  in  some  parts  of  the  world.  Thirty  or  forty  intel 
ligent  families  can,  in  this  way,  form  an  ideal  community 
By  co-operation  they  could  readily  avail  themselves  of 
machinery  to  lighten  their  labors;  manufacturing  could  be 
engaged  in  and  yet  each  family  own  and  manage  its  own 
home.  One  library,  lecture-room  and  amusement-hall, 
gymnasium,  etc.,  would  answer  for  all.  It  would  not  then 
be  necessary  for  thirty  or  forty  families  to  buy  thirty  or 
forty  copies  of  the  same  book.  Association  would  work 
wonders  in  many  ways;  the  people  would  improve  intellec 
tually  and  physically,  for  in  this  way  men  and  women  would 
be  brought  nearer  to  nature  and  to  healthful  and  natural 
ways.  I  tell  you,  George,  that  old  myth  of  the  wrestler, 
Anteus,  has  a  world  of  meaning  in  it.  He  could  not  be 
conquered,  for  as  often  as  he  was  thrown,  coming  in  this 
way  in  contact  with  mother  earth,  he  received  fresh  acces 
sions  of  strength,  thus  finally  overcoming  his  opponent. 
Hercules,  detecting  the  source  of  his  strength,  held  him  up 
in  his  arms  and  strangled  him  in  the  air,  as  runs  the  tale. 


286  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

So  it  is  with  nations  and  people.  Divorced  from  the  soil, 
they  begin  to  die.  The  cities  would  utterly  perish  in  two 
generations  if  not  re-inforced  from  the  country.  The  Eng 
lish  people,  however,  seem  to  realize  this  truth,  for  their 
upper  classes,  (so  called),  keep  up  their  country  residences 
and  their  fondness  for  rural  sports.  See  how  it  was  with 
the  Jewish  people  ;  so  long  as  that  people  obeyed  the  laws 
of  Moses  and  held  to  their  little  farms,  they  could  not  be 
conquered,  and  more  than  that  and  better  than  that,  they 
were  happy  ;  they  were  fulfilling  the  purpose  for  which,  as 
a  nation,  they  came  into  existence.  When  they  failed  in 
this,  their  nation  was  destroyed,  just  as  all  other  nations 
under  the  same  circumstances  have  been,  and  will  be.  It  is 
curious  to  note,  too,  ho\v  similar  their  history  is  to  that  of 
all  other  nations  on  this  one  point ;  luxury  and  wealth  be 
gan  the  trouble.  Solomon's  reign  was  magnificent.  Vessels 
of  gold  and  vessels  of  silver,  men-servants,  maid-servants 
and  concubines  increased  in  number,  but  the  trend  of  affairs 
was  more  and  more  away  from  the  simple  and  natural  life 
of  former  years.  Jerusalem  became  the  desired  place  of 
residence.  Taxation  was,  of  course,  heavily  increased. 
This  finally  rested,  as  must  always  be  the  case,  upon  pro 
ductive  labor — in  Judea,  upon  the  tiller  of  the  soil.  The 
people  became  uneasy  and  restive.  Probably  they  '  sold  out 
and  moved  to  town,1  as  our  farmers  have  done  and  are  doing. 
But  public  wealth  and  national  glory  grew  amazingly. 
Every  Jew  was  proud  of  his  country  and  of  Solomon's 
magnificence.  And  yet,  while  there  was  a  great  increase  of 
national  wealth,  private  poverty  began  then  and  there  to 
exert  its  evil  influence  upon  the  national  character.  In  a 
very  short  time  this  was  not  worth  preserving.  At  Solo 
mon's  death  the  common  and  ordinary  people, — who  really 
pay  all  the  taxes,  finally, — complained  bitterly  of  the  tax 
ation  imposed.  But  Rehoboam,  his  son  and  successor, 
refused  to  listen,  saying,  you  know  :  '  My  father  chastised 
you  with  whips,  but  I  will  chastise  you  with  scorpions.' 
Well,  that  ended  the  play  ;  the  ten  tribes  revolted,  and  the 


I.OOKINV,     FORWARD.  287 

kingdom  of  David  c;>.im-  to  an  end.  Ard  it  came  to  an  end 
because  the  peoples  lost  their  hold  upon  the  soil,  and  be 
cause  the  healthful  and  natural  life  of  the  free  cultivator 
had  been  made  impossible.  The  same  tiling  has  been  re 
peated  in  every  one  of  the  ruined  nations  of  the  past.  (  )ur 
own  nation  has  already  taken  a  good  many  steps  in  the 
same  direction,  and  our  only  safety  lies  in  retracing  these 
steps  and  in  getting  back  to  the  soil  and  to  nature. 

"The  cities  are  so  many  plague-spots,  and  yet  our  mode 
of  life  is  such  that  everything  is  made  to  tend  toward  them. 
The  laws  can  easily  change  this  current  of  things.  Give 
every  man  a  free  home  in  the  country,  and  the  current  will 
change  itself.  Of  course,  no  one  would  be  forced  to  live  in 
the  country,  but  if  we  make  country  life  easier,  pleasantcr, 
and — all  things  considered — more  profitable,  we  shall  be 
able  slowly  to  change  the  habits  of  society.  And  it  is  in 
line  with  natural  requirements.  Did  you  ever  think,  George, 
that  the  4  life,  liberty  and  pursuit  of  happiness '  of  the 
Declaration  of  Independence,  and,  in  fact,  all  the  natural 
requirements  of  men  upon  the  earth  are  included  in  Free 
Land  and  Free  Exchange,  or  exchange  at  cost  ?  Well,  they 
are.  Give  a  family  sufficient  land  for  self-support,  free  from 
all  taxation,  make  it  inalienable  except  by  direct  sale,  and 
then  secure  to  them  the  right  of  free  exchange  without  the 
payment  of  any  sort  of  tribute  to  anybody  ;  free  them  com 
pletely  from  the  claims  of  rent,  profit  and  interest,  and  give 
them  public  facilities  for  exchange  at  cost.  Then,  freedom 
in  these  things  and  security  in  their  results  comprise  all  the 
natural  rights  of  man ;  all  other  rights  arc  artificial  and 
conventional.  And  we  must  never  forget  that  men  cannot 
be  entirely  free  until  they  come  into  full  possession  of  their 
natural  rights.  And  if  not  free,  then  not  happy,  because 
not  in  line  with  the  great  destiny  God  has  in  store  for  man 
and  which  is  now  being  gradually  unfolded  before  our  eyes. 
Now,  if  these  things  belong  to  man,  naturally,  if  they  are 
natural  rights  coming  from  the  Creator, — and  we  must 
acknowledge  that  they  are, — then  we  can  clearly  see  that 


288  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

there  can  be  no  right  adjustment,  socially,  no  real  and  last 
ing  peace,  until  the}'  are  fully  restored  to  all  men,  and  it 
does  seem  to  me  that  Grafton's  four  measures  are  exceed 
ingly  well  adapted  to  bring  them  within  the  reach  of  all. 
Kvery  one  of  these  measures  is  strictly  in  line  with  the 
restoration  to  all  of  free  land  and  free  exchange,  or  exchange 
at  cost.  In  each  case  there  is  a  refusal  of  special  privilege 
now  enjoyed  by  the  few. 

First,  the  stay-laws  give  the  mortgaged  home-owner  an 
opportunity  to  save  his  home  and  prevent,  for  the  time,  his 
being  closed  out  at  forced  sale,  in  which  case  the  creditor 
would  probably  take  undue  advantage  of  the  family  in  his 
power. 

Secondly,  the  abolition  of  all  laws  for  the  collection  of 
future,  ordinary  and  voluntary  debts  would,  in  the  main, 
prevent  the  creation  of  such  debts.  They  would  not  then 
exist.  In  this  way  society  will  be  freed,  to  a  great  extent, 
from  debt  and  the  payment  of  interest.  This  is  the  great 
sink-hole  which  now  swallows  up  the  produce  of  the  laborer. 
Let  us  close  it  up!  It  will  then  be  'cash  or  no  trade1, — as  it 
ought  to  be.  Then,  we  should  have  more  money  in  circula 
tion,  for  the  right  sort  of  a  demand,  such  as  would  then  be 
made,  will  bring  it.  Then,  exchange  would  be  largely  freed 
from  the  demands  of  the  creditor,  who  now  tolls  every  deal, 
or  he  does  not  allow  it  to  be  made. 

Thirdly,  the  issuance  of  State  warrants.  l>y  the  State 
Treasurer,  bearing  no  interest,  to  each  school-district, 
municipality  and  county,  in  amount  equal  to  the  tax  levy: 
these  warrants  to  be  made  receivable  for  all  taxes,  any 
where  in  the  State;  the  State  Auditor's  office  to  be  made  a 
''  clearing-house  ''  for  the  settlement  of  balances  between 
the  various  districts,  municipalities  and  counties.  This 
would  be  another  long  step  toward  free  exchange  and  would 
powerfully  aid  in  enabling  people  to  make  the  ordinary 
exchanges  of  the  day,  free  from  usury. 

Fourthly,  making  the  homestead  free  from  the  claims 
of  debt  and  taxation,  thus  creating  a  safe  and  secure  retreat 


LOOKINC,    FORWARD.  289 

For  every   family,    would.    of    itself,    come    near  abolishing 
involuntary  poverty.       In  this  way  -ociety  will  lie    brought 
hack    t<»   natural    and    healthful    conditions.      Now.    affairs 
with  us  are  artificial  and  unnatural,  and  growing   moi 
every  day.'' 

"Oh,  we  must  follow  nature."  said  Maitland:  "and 
isn't  it  wonderful  that  when  this  i>  done,  all  the  good 
things  of  life  are  showered  upon  the  people  who  <>bevv 
Of  course,  we  are  only  on  the  threshhold.  Reform  in  the 
nation  conies  next:  but  its  beginning  in  the  State  was  the 
propei-,  and  in  fact,  the  only  way.  Many  people  ~eem  to 
me  to  have  come  near  taking  leave  of  their  <en<e<  in  advo 
cating  practical  communism  in  their  divams  of  a  complete 
co-operative  commonwealth.  We  must  take  men  a-  thev 
are.  and  the  facts  of  human  nature  cannot  he  hid.  So  long, 
as  no  house  is  bit:  enough  for  two  average  families,  the  co 
operative  commonwealth  is  only  a  dream,  an  ideal.  It  is 
like  the  condition  of  sinlessness  to  which  some  of  our 
Methodist  brethren,  at  times,  fancy  they  have  attained. 
Tlie  possibility  of  a  CO-operative  commonwealth,  with  godlv 
men,  is  clear  enough.  But  the  probability  of  it  among  all 
classes  of  very  imperfect  men  and  women  is  <juite  another 
matter:  and  in  the  co-operative  commonwealth  everything 
would  have  to  come  in.  They  are  going  to  get  rid  of  com 
petition,  they  tell  us,  and  supply  its  place  with  'emulation'. 
Surely,  they  ought  to  remember  that  this  same  emulation, 
in  a  religious  wav,  has  brought  on  some  of  the  h'erce-i 
conflicts  the  world  has  ever  seen.  Society  and  social  du 
ties  are  pleasant  in  their  way,  but  every  man  and  every 
woman  should  be  able,  at  times,  to  escape  from  them 
Otherwise  these  pleasant  things  become,  by  constant  and 
too  close  association,  intolerably  disagreeable.  A  meeting 
of  kindred  spirits  is  one  of  the  finest  things  in  all  thi- 
world.  But  keep  these  same  men  together  for  a  week,  and 
constraint  and  uneasiness  would  arise.  In  a  month,  if 
they  cannot  escape  from  each  other,  they  will  be  ready  to 
fight.  Kven  husband  and  wife  cannot  get  along  together^ 


290  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

unless  their  interests  are  identical.  They  must  be  '  one 
flesh'.  Well,  the  general  public  can  hardly  be  one  flesh, 
nor  are  the  varying  interests  of  individuals  identical.  It 
seems  to  me  that  there  is  a  rule  which  settles  all  this. 
Poor  Grafton's  wording  of  it  was:  "'Public  things  to  the  piib- 
lie;  private  affairs  to  the  individtial.''  Whatever  chiefly 
concerns  the  individual  life  of  man  must  be  free  from  the 
control  of  others.  The  home  and  the  individual  life  of  the 
family  must  not  come  under  public  inspection  or  control." 

"  Look  at  the  clock!  "  said  Mr.  Ellery,  "  we  must  go  to 
bed,  or  we  shall  not  need  to  get  up.'' 

"  Yes,  that  is  so,  though  to  tell  the  truth,  I  do  not  feel 
like  sleeping  at  present.  Now,  there  is  that  thing  of  hav 
ing  no  law  for  the  collection  of  debts;  a  good  many  people 
who  never  have  occasion  to  collect  a  debt  by  law  are,  or 
seem  to  be,  fearful  that  a  repeal  of  these  laws  may  bring  on 
a  regular  social  chaos,  but  it  was  just  so  with  the  samet 
class  of  people  at  the  time  of  the  abolition  of  imprison  men 
for  debt.  Now,  everybcxty  knows  that  it  would  be  a  most 
lamentable  backward  step  to  restore  imprisonment  for 
ordinary  debt;  but,  bless  me,  if  it  isn't  after  one  o'clock. 
Well,  good  night!" 


As  stated  in  the  last  chapter,  the  State  Senate  still 
remained  in  session.  On  the  adjournment  of  the  lower 
house,  efforts  were  made  to  bring  influences  to  bear  upon 
the  senators  which  should  induce  them  to  vote  for  the 
passage  of  the  bills  already  passed  by  the  representatives. 
Disturbances  in  various  parts  of  the  State  and  the  angry 
remonstrances  of  the  people  continued  until  the  senators 
began  to  fear  that  if  they  longer  refused  assent  to  the 
action  of  the  House,  that  civil  discord  of  an  aggravated 
kind  might  be  the  result.  So,  upon  the  presentation  of  an 
immense  petition,  signed  by  a  majority  of  the  voters  in 
the  districts  represented  by  certain  senators,  they  signified 
their  intention  of  voting  for  the  bills.  This  broke  the 
majority,  and  with  the  passage  of  a  resolution  which  was 


i.<  »<>KIN<;  FORWARD.  291 

in  the  nature  «>i'a  protest .  the  missing  repn-scntat i ves  wen- 
suininoned.  concurrent  action  was  had.  and  the  hills  were 
passed  and  quickly  signed  hy  the  (  iovernor.  So  far.  the 
victory  appeared  complete:  still,  past  experiences  rendered 
the  victors  somewhat  wary  and  suspicious.  The  laws  thus 
passed  provided,  substantially,  for  the  lour  measures  tir-t 
brought  forward  hy  (Jraiton. 

(irat'ton.  "the  agitator."  was  avenged.  His  plans  had 
been  mainly  adopted ;  largely,  perhaps,  because  his  tragic 
deatli  had  impressed  upon  the  minds  of  an  otherwise  heed- 
people  the  truths  he  taught.  Fortunate  man!  the 
struggles  and  sorro\vs  of  his  life  and  the  seeming  failure  of 
hi>  death  had  permitted  him  to  he  of  service  in  the  loni: 
and  toilsome,  upward  march  of  the  ra< 

According  to  tlie  terms  of  the  hill,  all  laws  for  the 
collection  of  dehts  contracted  subsequent  to  the  fourth  dav 
of  July  were  abrogated  and  annulled.  Henceforth,  he  who 
hy  tlie  power  of  money  secured  an  advantage  over  his 
fellow-men  could  not  claim  the  power  of  the  courts  as  an 
aid  to  his  designs.  Debt,  said  the  agitators, — that  foe  t<> 
liberty  and  chief  arm  of  tyranny. — will  now  he  eliminated 
and  destroyed. 

(heat  was  the  rejoicing  among  those  who  had  from 
the  first  seen  the  causes  of  inequality  and  injustice.  This, 
said  they,  is  the  first  step  in  the  grand  march  of  freedom. 
Tlie  people  have  now  turned  their  backs  upon  Pharaoh. 
They  will  go  out  of  bondage  and  possess  the  land.  But 
much  remains  to  be  done;  the  wilderness  is  yet  to  be 
passed  and  Pharaoh  will  yet  pursue. 

The  "  glorious  Fourth"  was  now  close  at  hand,  and 
immediately  upon  the  passage  of  the  bills  which  had  de 
creed  the  new  abolition,  a  celebration  had  been  arranged 
foi  Branchville  upon  that  day.  and  Maitland  had  been 
engaged  as  one;  of  the  speakers.  Possessed  of  natural  pow 
er.-  "fa  high  order,  these  had  been  aided  and  assisted  by 
an  education  which  enabled  him  to  grasp  at  a  glance  the 
full  significance  of  the  mighty  movement  yet  in  its  incip- 


292 


LOO  K I  NO    FO  R  W  A  K  I ) . 


iency.  Entering  into  its  spirit  with  all  the  ardor  of  youth 
and  the  force  of  a  thoroughly  aroused  purpose,  he  delivered 
the  address  of  the  day.  The  man  had  come  to  himself  and 
into  possession  of  powers  till  then  unrevealed  and  unsus 
pected.  Heretofore,  he  had  known  no  overmastering 
incentive;  reared  in  luxury,  his  every  want  supplied,  the 
man  had  not  known  himself.  Now  controlled  by  a  gene 
rous  purpose,  he  threw  himself,  with  all  his  force,  into  the 
fray. 

The  effect  upon  his  audience  was  electrical,  as  with 
ringing  voice  and  stalwart  frame  he  paced  the  platform , 
now  picturing  the  beauty  of  that  civilization  which  the 
future  should  yet  prepare,  and  now  in  thunder  tones  de 
nouncing  the  wrong  and  injustice  of  the  past.  "  Yet  1 
warn  you,"  said  he;  "  that  the  battle  is  but  begun.  New 
foes  will  rise  and  upon  new  fields  our  courage  and  our 
valor  must  yet  stand  the  test.  Let  us  then,  renewing  our 
vows,  reconsecrate  ourselves  to  the  cause  of  human  free 
dom,  conscious  that  the  battle  we  wage  is  not  alone  for 
those  who  stand  with  us  to-day,  but  for  all  men  and  for  all 
time.'' 

Coming  down  from  the  speaker's  stand,  hundreds 
pressed  forward  to  take  him  by  the  hand.  But  his  eyes 
sought  out  the  little  school-teacher  and  the  expression  he 
read  in  her  face  outweighed  the  plaudits  of  all  else  beside. 
Evidently,  her  opinion  of  his  character  and  abilities  was 
subject  to  change. 


LOOK  INC,    FORWARD. 


295 


CH  A  1»T  KR     X  X  VIII. 

NIIM'l-:n     IN     THK     IICD. 


J\  KTER  all,  and  as  usual,  it  was  the  unexpected  that 
2°Y  happened.  Governor  Brown  was  sitting  in  his  office 
one  day  after  the  passage  of  "the  abolition  bills" 
when  Johil  Brooks,  a  well-known  business  man  ofTopcka, 
entered  and  looked  cautiously  around,  evidently  for  the 
purpose  of  discovering  who  beside  the  Governor  might  be 
present.  Seeing  no  person,  except  the  clerk  or  secretary, 
whom  he  had  passed  in  the  outer  office,  he  softly  closed  the 
door  of  the  inner  or  private  office  and  said:  "Governor,  are 
we  entirely  alone  ?  " 

4  Yes  sir,"   said  the  Governor. 

'  Well,  my  business  with  you  is  private  and  confiden 
tial  in  the  extreme,  and  I  shall  ask  yon  to  pledge  yourself 
not  to  divulge  to  a  living  soul  what  I  have  to  say,"  and  he 
looked  enquiring!}'  to  the  Governor. 

"  I  should  scarcely  like  to  do  that,  said  that  official  ; 
"however,  I  will  say  this:  I  will  not  disclose  the  name  of 
my  informant  without  his  permission." 

"  Well,  that's  what  I  meant,  of  course.  Now,  because 
of  the  fact  that  we  are  members  of  the  same  lodge,  I  am 
bound  to  inform  you  of  designs  dangerous  to  you  or  your 
peace  of  mind.  I  am,  as  you  know,  a  republican  and  so  far 


296 


LOOKING    FORWARD. 


have  been  opposed  to  the  measures  proposed  by  your  party,, 
but  we've  had  disorder  enough  in  this  State.  I'm  for  peace  I 
The  majority  of  the  people  have  declared  for  what  your 
party  calls  'the  abolittion  laws',  and  Pm  content  to  have  ?em 
tried.  Fact  is,  I've  half  a  notion  of  late  that  maybe  they 
are  right.  Business  has  been  bad  enough  for  a  long  time 
back,  God  knows,  and  any  honest  effort  to  improve  it  ought 
to  have  a  show.  Now,  I  went  down,  yesterday,  to  the  Third 

National,   where   I  do 
my  banking  business, 
to     make     a    deposit. 
Well,  I  was   late,  and 
the   front    door    being 
shut,  I  went  around  to 
the  side  door,  as  I  have 
often   done   before.     I 
walked  in  as  I  usually 
do,  not  inakmg  a  very 
big   racket, — but  gra 
cious  !      I  might  have 
worn     cow-hide    boots    and 
stamped     all    the     way,     they 
never'd    heard    me.      Old     Col. 
Gibson,   president    of   the   First 
National,  you  know,  was  talking 
right  out  in  meetin'  in  the  direc 
tors'  room,   which    is    separated 
from  the  outer  room  by  a  parti~ 
tion  running   only  part  way  to 
the  ceiling,  so  that  I  could  hear 
every  word  he  said.     The  front 

door  being  shut  I  reckon  they  thought  they  were  alone. 
There  seemed  to  be  a  kind  of  meeting  of  the  bankers  of  the 
city  in  progress,  and  they  had  Judge  Clark  of  the  Supreme 
Court,  who  is  largely  interested  in  the  First  National,  in. 
there  with  them,  by  the  sound.  Well,  by  thunder  I  did 
what  I  never  did  before, — I  listened ;  I  played  the  Paul  Pry 


M)(>KINC,     FORWARD.  297 

011  'em.  No\\,  do  you  know,  what  I  heard  riled  my  dander, 
and  after  I'd  got  a  part  of  it  I  stayed  right  there  for  Un 
balance,  expecting  every  minute  that  the  watchman  or  jani 
tor  would  come  in  at  the  back  door  and  find  me;  and  then  I 
made  np  my  mind  I'd  act  as  though  I'd  just  come  in,  and 
stamp  along  the  passage-way  and  call  for  the  teller.  I 
was  n't  afraid  of  the  other  fellows,  because  they  could  n't  get 
out  of  the  directors'  room  into  the  passage-way,  where  I  was% 
without  going  into  another  room,  and  I  knew  that  I  could 
have  warning  of  their  coining  in  that  way.  Well,  damn  my 
soul  if  them  fellows  didn't  lay  plans  to  knock  business  and 
everything  else  but  their  own  perfesh  of  money-loaning, 
into  smithereens  with  the  cussedest  cheerfulness  imagin 
able." 

"Well,   what    were    their    plans?"  said    the    Governor^ 
who  by  this  time  appeared  greatly  interested. 

"  Suppose  I  am  rather  long  in  coming  to  the  point,  but 
the  amount  of  it  is  this  :  they  made  an  arrangement  with 
old  Clark  to  issue  an  injunction,  directed  to  the  State  Treas 
urer  enjoining  him  against  issuing  the  State  warrants  called 
for  in  what  your  people  call  the  third  demand.  Gibson  was 
specially  outrageous  in  his  talk.  He  said:  'If  the  State 
issues  those  warrants,  as  proposed,  bearing  no  interest, 
receivable  anywhere  in  the  State  for  taxes,  engraved  in  good 
style,  in  denominations  like  money,  with  a  clearing-house 
provided  for  in  the  State  Auditor's  office,  they'll  pass  for 
money;  they'll  circulate  from  hand  to  hand  and  take  the 
place  of  money  in  their  journey  from  the  district  or  muni 
cipality  paying  them  out  of  the  State  Auditor's  office.  Of 
course  we  can  refuse  to  receive  them  on  deposit  and  can 
quote  them  at  a  discount,  but  if  they  are  made  receivable  for 
taxes  and  no  more  are  issued  than  the  tax-roll  calls  for> 
redemption  is  provided  for  every  dollar  and  the  discount 
cannot,  for  obvious  reasons,  be  very  heavy.  They  will  be 
worth  par  to  anybody  who  wants  to  pay  taxes.  Taxes  be 
ing  payable,  at  the  option  of  the  tax-payer,  every  three 


298 


LOOKING    FORWARD. 


months,  warrants  will  be  in  demand.  No  fiat  money  scheme 
in  this  thing  ;  no  dollar  of  it  will  be  put  out  unless  some 
body  has  first  furnished  the  State  with  a  dollar's  worth  of 
labor  or  material ;  then  the  State  agrees  to  take  it  up  in 
taxes  and  destroy  it.  Oh,  they'll  go  !  Money  is  scarce  and 
people  are  crazy  for  something  to  effect  exchanges  with,  and 
you  can  bet  they'll  use  'em.  The  result  will  be  that  general 
business  will  increase  in  amount,  exchanges  will  be  easier 


made  and  everybody  will  be  convinced  the  warrant  scheme 
is  a  good  thing.  Then  they  will  issue  more  of  'em  ;  begin 
public  improvements,  levy  taxes  and  issue  warrants  to  pay 
for  'em  ;  every  idle  hobo  will  have  a  job  and  prices  of  pro 
perty  will  rise,  to  some  extent.  Then,'  said  he,  'they  will 
knock  us  out ;  our  hold  on  business  and  business  men  will 
be  destroyed.  The  scheme  is  feasible  ;  they  can  make  it 
work,  and  when  they  do, — good  bye  to  private  banking. 
This  thing  is  only  an  entering  wedge,  and  the  amount  of  it 


T,OOKI\<;    i-oKWARn.  -299 

is,  our  business  is  at  stake  and  we  must  nip  this  tiling  in 
the  bud,  or  not  at  all,  for  when  the  fools  once  find  out  that 
they  can  get  along  without  us  we'll  be  like  (  Hhello  in  the 
play,  our  occupation  will  be  gone.  Another  thing  for  von 
gentlemen  to  notice  just  as  you  turn  this  corner;  they  pro 
pose  in  this  way  to  get  a  sort  of  circulating  medium  that 
don't  pay  anybody  any  interest.  Just  put  that  in  your  pipe 
and  smoke  it!  You  let  the  people  get  a  taste  of  that  kind 
of  thing  and  they  will  do  us  up  in  a  rag,  too  quick.1 

"Somebody  ventured  to  express  a  doubt  about  the  war 
rants  being  a  success,  but  the  old  man  pooh  poohed  him 
down  iu  no  time.  '  Why  don't  you  know.'  said  he,  in  reply, 
'that  there  is  a  vast  fund  of  information  to  be  obtained  from 
the  experience  of  the  Mormons  in  Utah  on  this  point? 
They  issued  the  scrip,  not  half  so  well  provided  for  as  this 
is,  and  did  all  their  business  among  themselves  with  it. 
Thousands  of  them  never  saw  any  other  money  from  year's 
end  to  year's  end,  and  it  made  'em  prosperous,  too.  People 
have  talked  about  the  wonderful  organizing  capacity  of 
Hrigham  Young  and  all  that,  but  I  can  tell  you  that  the 
scrip  which  allowed  very  near  free  exchange  was  at  the 
bottom  of  their  commercial  success.  They  didn't  borrow 
any  money,  paid  no  interest,  and  whenever  they  wanted  to 
buy  or  sell  there  was  no  hindrance  to  the  dicker,  and  the 
profits  of  a  trade  they  were  able  to  keep.  Just  yon  look  up 
the  facts  in  Utah  if  you  want  to  know  about  scrip  and  what 
the  freedom  of  exchange  implies.  Well,  they  made  their 
scrip  so  common  that  the  National  Hanking  Association  had 
to  take  cognizance  of  it.  Complaint  was  made  that  the 
Mormons  were  emiting  bills  of  credit,  contrary  to  the  United 
States  Constitution,  and  that  they  were  liable  for  the  ten 
per  cent,  tax  on  a  circulating  medium,  under  United  States 
law,  and  the  matter  was  taken,  I  think,  into  the  United 
States  District  Court  for  adjudication.  Well,  the  Mormons 
just  changed  the  form  of  the  scrip,  making  each  piece 
returnable  to  their  treasury,  where  it  was  destroyed.  It 
wasn't  'a  circulating  medium'  then.  Oh,  they  are  smart, 
them  Mormons  are  ! ' 


3OO  I^OOKING     FORWARD. 

"  Well,  he  talked  on  in  that  way,  saying,  substantially, 
that  business  men  did  n't  amount  to  anything,  that  every 
one  of  'em  was  in  debt  and  under  the  control  of  the  banks, 
and  that  in  the  ordinary  run  of  business,  as  now  conducted, 
they  could  be  managed  all  right;  'but,'  said  he,  'if  this  new 
fangled  scheme  gets  a  start  and  to  running  the}-  will  get 
out  from  under  our  control  ;  they'll  get  sassy  and  we  can't 
manage  'em.'  He  did  n't  say  just  that,  exactly,  but  that's 
what  he  meant." 

"  But  what  did  Judge  Clark  have  to  say  ?  "  asked  the 
Governor. 

"  Well,  he  didn't  say  much,  but  he  assented  to  what 
was  said  by  Gibson  and  the  others.  They  appealed  to  him, 
asking  if  there  was  n't  some  way  in  which  the  law  could  be 
used  to  beat  'that  measly  crowd';  though  who  they  could 
mean  by  'measly  crowd'  but  the  majority  of  the  people  of 
the  State,  I  can't  see.  But  the  old  Judge  said  he  thought 
he  could  '  fix  'em,'  and  before  I  left  he  told  'em  positively 
that  he  would  issue  an  injunction  in  time  to  prevent  the 
issuing  of  the  warrants." 

"  But  did  you  get  away  without  being  observed  ?  " 

''  Yes,  I  did  ;  at  first  I  had  intended  only  to  hear  a  little 
and  then  steal  back  to  the  outer  door,  open  it  with  a  bang 
and  then  walk  heavily  along  the  passage,  as  though  just 
coming  in,  but  I  had  heard  so  much,  and  then,  what  I  did 
hear  made  me  so  mad  that  I  concluded  to  slip  out  as  I  came 
in  and  put  off  my  deposit  until  another  time.  And  this  I 
did  ;  the  janitor  was  n't  around  ;  he  knew,  I  suppose,  that  a 
meeting  was  in  progress  and  so  was  in  no  hurry  to  go  back, 
and  his  neglect  in  leaving  the  side-door  open  when  he  came 
out  was  what  gave  me  my  opportunity.  I  saw  him  in  at 
the  corner  drug-store  as  I  came  away.  He  didn't  see  me  ; 
nobody  saw  me  so  far  as  I  know,  and  if  they  did  it  was  no 
thing  uncommon  for  a  depositor  to  be  seen  coming  out  that 
door.  So  far,  the  secret  is  safe  ;  I  know  it  and  you  know  it, 
and  you  are  bound  by  the  strongest  ties  not  to  give  me 
away." 


L<M»KIN<; 


301 


"  I  wish  you  would  come  out  squarely  and  tell  it  all  to 
everybody  us  you  have  to  me,"  said  the  Governor. 

"Oh,  I  COUld  n't  do  that  for  the  world.  You  see,  they 
would  ruin  my  business,  and  then  just  look  at  my  action  in 
playing  the  Paul  Pry  on  'cm;  why,  I  never  could  hold  up 
my  head  in  this  town  again  if  I  was  to  do  that!" 

u  That's  so,  I  suppose,"  said  the  Governor,  as  he 
thoughtfully  scratched  his  head.  "Anyhow,"  he  added, 
41  Mr.  Brooks,  I  am  a  thousand  times  obliged  to  you  for  this 
and  I'll  not  disclose  your  name  to  a  soul  without  your  per 
mission.  And  by  the  way,  if  yon  get  onto  anything  more 
in  the  same  line  let  me  know  and  I'll  find  a  way  to  reward 
you;  if  I  can't  in  one  way,  I  will  in  another.'' 

No  sooner  had  Mr.  Brooks  taken  his  departure  than 
the  Governor  sent  a  messenger  to  the  office  of  the  Attorney- 
General,  the  State  Treasurer  and  the  Auditor,  asking  their 
immediate  presence  in  his  office.  Upon  their  arrival  the 
whole  story  was  related  to  them,  Mr.  Brooks'  name  only 
being  with-held." 

u  It's  a  crisis,'  said  the  Governor;  "  what  is  best  to  be 
done  ?  " 

The  Attorney-General  couldn't  think  of  anything 
better  than  to  let  Judge  Clark  issue  his  injunction,  the  State 
Treasurer  to  defy  it,  issuing  the  warrants  according  to  law, 
thus  throwing  the  whole  matter  into  the  courts  for  decision. 

The  Treasurer  demurred  ;  he  couldn't  think  of  standing 
the  brunt  of  the  whole  thing,  and  the  Auditor  seemed  parti 
cularly  glad  that  it  was  n't  his  office  which  was  to  be  in 
volved  in  a  controversy.  Finally,  after  a  few  expressions 
of  opinion  the  four  gentlemen  sat  and  looked  at  each  other, 
for  the  moment  in  silence. 

"  This  will  never  do,"  said  Governor  Brown  ;  "  some 
thing  must  l^e  done ;  I've  sworn  to  uphold  the  laws  and 
maintain  them  and  I  am  going  to  do  it,  even  though  a  law- 
defier  sits  on  the  bench.  One  of  the  things  I  never  could 
understand  is  why  the  people  should  expect  an  unprincipled 
and  morally  bankrupt  attorney  to  immediately  become  an 


3O2  LOOKINC,     FORWARD. 

upright  and  incorruptible  judge  by  the  mere  fact  of  ail 
election  at  the  polls.  Going  through  the  ballot-box  doesn't 
purify  him.  Usually  the  effect  is  the  reverse  of  this.  Com 
monly,  he  must  make  pledges  to  certain  monopolistic  influ 
ences  before  he  can  secure  a  nomination,  even.  He  is  the 
same  shyster,  only  given  more  power  and  made  more 
dangerous  ;  that's  all.  Now,  suppose  we  move  on  his  works 
at  once  ;  suppose,  that  as  the  chief  magistrate  of  this  State 
I  issue  a  warrant  for  his  arrest,  charge  him  with  conspiracy 
against  the  people  of  this  State  in  attempting  to  nullify  the 
laws,  and  with  malfeasance  in  office  in  bargaining  away 
decisions  of  his  court  ;  publish  the  facts  broadcast  and 
summon  the  legislature,  forthwith,  to  try  him  and  take 
action  in  the  emergency?" 

''Wouldn't  that  be  somewhat  revolutionary?"  said 
the  Attorney-General. 

"  No,  I  think  not;  quite  the  reverse,  indeed.  It's  an 
appeal  to  the  people.  The  people  are  the  source  of  all 
power.  The  laws  are  simply  their  will  written  down. 
There  is  nothing  sacred  about  law,  unless  it  embodies  that 
will.  Now,  in  this  supposed  instance,  my  action  would  be 
in  support  of  the  people's  laws  attacked  by  a  traitor.  And 
even  suppose  Judge  Clark  to  be  honest  in  his  opinion,  the 
case  is  this:  one  man  against  the  people  of  the  State;  a 
man  who  sets  himself  deliberately  to  nullify  the  will  of 
the  people.  Are  the  people  of  a  whole  State  to  confess 
their  power  to  govern  themselves  taken  away  by  an  irre 
sponsible  shyster  who,  by  common  political  methods,  lias 
been  foisted  by  corrupt  rings ters,  who  control  party  nomi 
nations,  into  office  to  do  the  will  of  corporations?  We 
have  a  sample  of  the  influence  controlling  Clark  in  that 
meeting  at  the  bank.  Now,  are  we  going  to  let  those  people 
in  that  bank  have  more  governmental  power  than  all  the 
people  of  this  State?  And  you  will  remember  that  this  is 
not  the  first  time  that  Judge  Clark  has  laid  himself  open 
to  suspicion.  Is  such  a  man  as  he  to  be  the  people's  auto 
cratic  ruler?  Is  the  right  of  self-government  gone?  I  will 


LOOKIM.     FORWARD.  303 

not  believe  it!  A.ny how,  the  people  shall  deride.  If  n> 
sary,  we  '-an  rail  an  election.  «»r  have  it  done,  and  let  tin; 
people  determine  the  whole  matter  for  themselves.  And 
something  of  this  kind  must  he  done  if  the  people  are  i«, 
rule,  ('lark's  will  only  be  the  first  of  a  whole  <Top  of 
injunctions  unless  this  thin^  is  nipped  in  the  hud.  <  >ne 
thing  sure,  we  will  find  out,  once  for  all.  whether  the  voter-- 
of  this  State  have  lost  the  right  of  self-government,  or  not. 
\Ve  will  put  the  thing  to  the  test." 

"  Well,  that  would  be  one  way  of  settling  the  matter.' 
said  the  Auditor.  "  that  would  be  the  Swiss    referendum  in 
practice,  straight  out  and  right  ofl'." 

"Can  you  think  of  a  better?"  the  Governor  asked. 
But  all  agreed  that  it  would  he  the  only  way  to  successfully 
oppose  the  rule  of  Clark  and  his  masters. 

"Now.  gentlemen.'  said  Governor  Brown,  "not  one 
word  of  all  this  must  get  out.  This  is  a  State  secret  and  I 
shall  hold  each  one  of  you  personally  responsible  for  its 
-afe  keeping.  1  have  called  you  in  consultation  and  in 
confidence,  and  1  shall  ask  you  to  respect  that  confidence 
until  I  ad." 

Governor  Brown  was  as  good  as  his  word,  and  moved 
with  promptness.  Judge  ('lark  was  arrested,  a  detailed 
aecount  of  the  meeting  at  the  hank,  with  the  substance  of 
what  was  there  said,  given  to  the  public  press  and  tin- 
legislature  summoned  to  meet  in  extra  session. 

An  immense  sensation  was  the  result.  Nothing  else 
was  talked  of  throughout  the  State.  The  participators  in 
the  meeting  at  the  bank  wen/  convinced  that  some  one  of 
their  number  had  turned  traitor  and  informer.  Each  wa- 
suspicious  of  the  other:  distrust  and  dislike  the  natural 
consequence,  and  all  of  them  seemed  willing  that  Judge 
Clark  should  be  the  victim  of  the  occasion,  for  the  feeling 
aroused  by  the  publication  of  the  facts  was  so  great  that  it 
was  readily  seen  that  a  victim  must  he  forthcoming. 
Under  these  circumstances  they  began  to  talk:  several 
acknowledging  that  they  were  at  the  meeting  and  giving 


304  LOOKING  FORWARD. 

the  names  of  all  who  were  present.  Newspaper  interview 
ers  soon  had  a  full  list  of  names  and  a  complete  account 
of  all  that  was  said  and  done  at  the  now  famous  meeting; 
to  the  immense  relief  of  merchant  John  Brooks,  as  our 
readers  will  readily  helieve.  Who  had  first  told  the  Gov 
ernor  now  seemed  a  matter  of  little  importance,  since  all 
had  unburdened  their  minds  upon  the  subject. 

The  political  complexion  of  the  legislature  being 
known  and  the  necessity  of  a  victim  being  apparent,  Judge 
Clark's  title  to  a  good  degree  of  ignominy  seemed  secure. 

In  due  time  the  legislature  met.  The  fact  that  the 
people  of  the  State  had  long  been  suffering  from  "  hard 
times"  and  were  exceedingly  anxious  to  try  anything 
which  promised  relief  and  the  further  fact  that  they  were 
tired  of  turmoil  would  undoubtedly  have  induced  the 
legislature  to  sustain  Governor  Brown  in  the  impeach 
ment  of  Judge  Clark,  but  the  strong  and  unequivocal 
statements  of  President  Gibson  of  the  First  National, 
which  he  could  not  deny,  that  the  warrants  would  circulate 
freely,  allowing  exchanges  to  be  made  ;  that  under  these 
•circumstances,  business  would  increase,  employment  be 
found  for  all  and  people  be  enabled  to  escape  in  a  measure 
from  the  business  control  of  the  banks,  made  certain  the 
result. 

The  Governor  was  sustained  and  Judge  Clark  im 
peached.  In  addition,  the  legislature  provided  for  the 
calling  of  an  election  at  which  a  proposition  should  be 
submitted  for  a  yea  and  nay  vote.  The  proposition  being, 
substantially:  "  Shall  the  laws  passed  by  the  legislature, 
session  of-  — ,  be  sustained,  and  is  the  Governor  author 
ized,  if  need  be,  to  employ  military  force  in  upholding  the 
decision  of  the  people?" 

But  one  answer  was  possible;  tired  of  strife  and  now 
earnestly  hoping  for  a  return  of  "  good  times/'  a  very  large 
majority  voted  ''  yes/'  Indeed,  the  decision  was  almost 
unanimous  for  trial  of  the  new  laws.  This  broke  the  back 
of  the  opposition,  scarcely  anyone  openly  opposing  the 


LOOKINO    FORWARD.  305 

issuance  of  the  warrants,  it  being  plain  that  as  they  were 
returnable  to  the  State  Auditor's  office,  there  to  be  de 
stroyed,  that  they  could  not  be  considered  as  bills  of  credit 
prohibited  by  the  United  States  Constitution.  The  ( Jov- 
ernor  being  empowered  to  go  to  almost  any  length  in 
support,  no  other  judge  seemed  anxiou-  to  tempt  the  fate 
meted  out  to  Judge  Clark,  and  a  general  acquiescence  in 
the  new  legislation  seemed  to  be  ;U  last  secured. 

Slowly  business  l.e-un  to  improve,  and  men  of  means 
considered  shrewd  and  "sharp"  began  very  cautiouslv, 
here  and  there,  to  buy  land  offered  for  sale  at  what  were 
considered  "low  figures."  On  account  of  the  repeal  of  the 
laws  for  the  collection  of  debt,  sales  were  invariably  made 
for  cash  or  other  property.  Very  soon,  or  as  soon  as  it  be 
came  apparent  that  men  considered  far-seeing  in  every 
neighborhood  were  buying  good  farms,  land  began  slowly 
to  rise  in  value.  For  years  it  had  been  impossible  to  sell 
land  at  -any  reasonable  figure  and  much  surprise  was  ex 
pressed  at  the  turn  affairs  had  taken.  The  "  stay-law  '' 
having  ,uiven  the  holders  of  mortgaged  property  able  to 
make  a  satisfactory  showing  to  the  court,  two  years  of 
•grace."  they  were  not  particularly  anxious  to  sell,  while 
Kastern  and  foreign  holders  of  mortgages  on  Kansas  pro 
perty  hearing  extravagant  accounts  of  "repudiation  legis 
lation  "  in  that  State  became  correspondingly  anxious  to 
>ecure  their  claims.  "  These  people/'  said  they,  "  have  put 
us  off  for  two  years:  now  what  is  to  hinder  them  from 
putting  us  off  again  at  the  end  of  the  two  years";  and  they 
began  to  be  afraid.  The  only  way  of  securing  themselves 
absolutely  against  loss  seemed  to  be  the  purchase  of  the 
''equity"  held  by  the  holder  of  the  land.  The  holder  of 
the  mortgage  thus  became  the  undisputed  owner  of  the 
properly  mortgaged  to  him.  Fear  of  future  loss  inducing 
many  to  do  this,  good  farms  rose  still  higher  in  price  as 
the  demand  grew  and  increased.  Strange  as  it  seemed  to 
the  people  who  had  fought  the  legislation  proposed  by  the 
reformers,  what  Deemed  to  be  a  regular  "real-estate  boom" 


306  LOOKING  FORWARD. 

began  to  show  its  familiar  features.  Unlike  previous 
booms,  however,  all  deals  were  settled  on  the  spot.  No 
debts  were  left  to  "  draw  "  interest  and  mar  the  profits  of 
transactions.  Land  was  steadily  rising  in  value  and  every 
one  who  bought  was  able  to  figure  out  a  profit.  It  did  not 
seem  possible  for  anyone  to  lose  in  the  buying  and  selling 
which  now  became  common,  nor  was  there  opportunity  for 
one  to  become  largely  indebted.  The  situation  was,  from 
its  very  newness  and  extreme  unlikeness  to  anything  be 
fore  known,  very  peculiar.  The  oldest  inhabitant  could 
remember  nothing  like  it.  One  thing  seemed  clear:  it 
could  n't  last.  Meantime  an  opportunity  was  offered  the 
farmers  for  which  they  had  long  waited:  now  they  could 
get  out  of  debt. 

At  this  stage  of  the  rapidly-shifting  business  pano 
rama,  while  improvement  was  the  order  of  the  day  and 
trade  extremely  brisk,  the  only  lugubrious  people  to  be 
found  were  the  followers  of  Henry  George,  who  constantly 
filled  the  ears  of  the  few  they  were  able  to  "buttonhole" 
with  doleful  accounts  of  the  ruin  to  come;  "  the  land 
holders  were  to  be  the  new  monopolists,"  they  said;  "all 
that  had  been  done  was  for  the  benefit  of  the  land-holder." 
But  all  they  said  had  but  little  effect  upon  those  who  had 
found  land  for  years  the  most  unprofitable  thing  they 
could  touch,  and  at  the  same  time, — anomolous  condition 
of  affairs  that  it  was, — it  had  seemed  impossible  for  a  poor 
man  to  hold  his  little  homestead.  The  money-loaner  and 
the  tax-gatherer  seemed  all  the  time  just  on  the  point  of 
taking  it  away  from  him.  Land  hadn't  paid  anyone  for 
its  cultivation;  there  was  no  profit  in  that;  it  had  been 
absolutely  unsalable;  really  it  seemed  to  be  worth  nothing, 
and  yet  it  had  been  the  hardest  thing  in  the  world  to  pre 
vent  foreclosure  or  sale  for  taxes.  In  short,  the  poor 
home-owner  had  been  suffering  a  perfect  night-mare  of 
oppression.  But  this  peculiar  and  unrighteous  condition 
of  affairs  was  now  coming  to  an  end.  Now,  if  he  wanted 
to  sell  his  place  and  pay  of  the  mortgage,  he  could  do  so? 


LOOK-INN;  FOR  WARD.  307 

and  have  something  left.  Indeed,  it  began  to  ho  seen  that 
the  rise  in  land  values  was  a  perfect  god-send  to  the  mort 
gaged  homo-owner.  In  no  other  way  could  he  have  go«. 
out  of  the  grasp  of  the  money-loaner.  Now,  lie  who  had  a 
mortgaged  farm  could,  hy  selling  half,  usually,  pav  hi< 
debt,  leaving  half  clear  of  incumhranee,  which,  under  tin- 
new  law,  could  not  he  taken  from  him  under  any  pretext 
and,  in  addition,  it  was  not  taxahle.  This  was  a  clra-- 
advantage;  anybody  could  see  that.  A  free  home  made 
the  family  possessing  it  free.  It  was  better  than  life  in 
tuirance;  there  were  no  premiums  to  pay  and  it  could  not 
be  taken  from  the  family  as  long  as  any  member  remained 
who  needed  it.  Free  homes  made  free  men;  no  more  fear 
of  the  sheriff  or  the  tax-gatherer.  Coming  want  did  not 
scare  them,  nor  the  creditor  make  them  afraid. 

From  appearances,  a  regular  land  boom  had  been 
engineered,  evidently  by  design;  or.  so  it  seemed.  Among 
the  people  who  had  opposed  "the  demands'"  the  greatest 
wonder  was  manifested  Had  "  thai  measly  crowd  "  sense 
enough  to  work  such  a  scheme?  And  how  curious — to 
them — the  working  out  of  the  plan!  Previous  land  specu 
lations  had  left  everybody  in  debt.  This  one  got  people 
out  of  debt  and  made  it  pract  icallv  impossible  for  them  to 
get  in.  Another  thing  was  a  great  surprise  to  them:  all 
enquiry  was  for  farms  and  rural  homes  which,  under  the 
new  law,  would  be  free  from  taxation.  k'  Town  property  " 
did  n't  figure  in  real  estate  deals,  as  formerly.  Public 
attention  was  attracted  away  from  the  cities  and  to  the 
country.  Meantime,  business  of  every  legitimate  sort  wa-= 
pressed  to  the  sky  line;  in  fact,  the  large  amounts  oi 
money  sent  into  the  State  for  the  purchase  of  equities 
made  exchanges  and  the  payment  of  debts  easy.  Undei 
these  circumstances  no  one  could  be  found  to  say  anything 
against  the  abolition  laws,  and  the  strongest  opposers  freely 
acknowledged  that  they  had  been  mistaken.  Hut  shrewd 
observers  began  to  say:  "  If  the  people  who  have  run  this 
deal,  so  far,  were  bright  enough  to  do  what  they  have  done, 
we  may  be  sure  they  have  something  else  'on  the  string'. 
Better  look  a  little  out!" 


LOOKTNC!     FORWATtD. 

CH  A  PTRR    X  X  IX. 

A     NKW     DKAh. 

UR  story  approaches  its  end.  What 
remains  to  be  told  must  be  hastily 
sketched. 

"  The  boom  ''  quickly  came  to  an  end. 
Like  all  other  and  previous  booms,  it 
left  a  large  number  of  people,  who  had 
prided  themselves  upon  their  shrewd 
ness,  heavily  encumbered.  Not  with 
debts,  as  had  formerly  been  the  case,  but 
with  land.  The  eagerness  of  the  mort 
gage  holders  to  secure  their  claims  had 

made  a  demand  for  farms,  and  demand  had  largely  increased 
price.  Thus  the  speculative  fever  had  taken  its  rise.  See 
ing  that  the  price  of  land  and  farms  continued  slowly  and 
steadily  to  rise,  all  who  could  obtain  money  began  very 
cautiously  to  buy  land.  What  was  bought  this  week  was 
rated  at  a  higher  figure  next.  In  every  neighborhood  cer 
tain  parties  were  said  to  have  "made"  large  sums  in  buying 
and  selling  land.  This  operated,  as  it  has  ever  done,  to 
temporarily  craze  whole  communities.  Any  resident  of  one 
of  the  affected  communities  could  easily  prove  to  himself 
that  the  then  present  conditions  were  not  temporary,  but 
permanent.  "Things  were  now  just  where  they  should 
have  been  all  along ;  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  were  simply 
assuming  their  normal  relations."  Argument  was  lost  on 
him.  "  Look  at  the  steady  rise  in  prices  !" 

But  when  the  mortgaged  home-owners  had  been  able, 
by  the  rise  in  prices,  to  get  out  of  debt,  and  in  most  in 
stances  still  retain  a  somewhat  smaller  and  less  expensive 
home,  genuine  and  legitimate  demand,  for  occupation  and 
use,  backed  by  money,  came  to  an  end.  The  fever  of  specu 
lation,  however,  did  not  at  once  abate,  and  large  investments 
of  money  continued  to  be  made  for  a  time.  Suddenly  a  halt 
was  called  and  speculation  stopped.  Facts  began  now  to  be 


LOOKING     FORWARD.  311 

fully  reali/ed  and  investors  slowly  regained  their  senses. 
It  was  all  very  clear,  now.  They  had  started  the  boom- 
They  had  furnished  the  money,  -a' it  limit  interest,  to  run  it 
and  make  all  the  necessary  exchanges,  by  means  of  which 
most  of  the  farmers  were  now  free.  They  had  given  up 
interest-bearing  obligations  and,  in  the  aggregate,  had  in 
addition  furnished  the  owners  of  land  with  large  amounts  of 
money.  Fear  had  induced  them  to  begin  buying,  and  greed, 
or  the  hope  of  gain,  had  urged  them  on  in  what  all  could 
now  see  was  a  wild  speculation.  Now,  they  began  to  think 
Income  from  the  payment  of  interest  money  had  largely 
ceased.  A  large  share  of  the  people  still  had  homes  and 
yet  could  not  be  taxed  ;  had,  in  fact,  secured  their  indepen 
dence.  "Investors"  and  land  speculators,  however,  held 
large  numbers  of  farms  and  great  quantities  of  land,  which, 
on  the  subsidence  of  the  speculative  fever,  remained  unsal 
able,  and  quoted  prices  began  to  recede.  All  this  was  tax 
able.  .  This  was  a  very  important  fact',  the  importance  of 
which  began,  now,  to  be  fully  appreciated.  The  prospect, 
too,  in  the  eyes  of  the  large  land-holders,  seemed  extraordi 
narily  good  for  a  great  increase  in  taxation.  Under  these 
circumstances,  a  new  terror  took  possession  of  them.  They 
were  worse  off  than  ever.  Plainville  had  already  built  a 
new  bridge  across  the  creek  and  paid  for  it  in  warrants 
issued  to  her  own  citixens.  Nobody  seemed  to  feel  that  it 
had  really  cost  anything,  and  now  they  were  talking  of 
building  a  flouring  mill  in  the  same  way  ;  that  is,  by  tax 
ation.  Other  towns  had  done  the  same  and  the  seemingly 
unlucky  investors  in  land  already  felt  in  their  minds  the 
pangs  of  approaching  loss. 

The  speculators  thus  self-entrapped  made  a  great  out 
cry.  True,  however,  to  their  never-failing  duplicity,  it  was 
not  of  their  own  woe  that  they  spoke.  As  usual,  uthe  poor 
man  "  was  the  subject  of  all  their  conversation.  "Credit 
being  destroyed  by  the  most  disgraceful  legislation  which 
ever  cumbered  the  statute-books  of  a  civili/ed  state,  the  poor 
man  was  now  deprived  of  the  opportunity  of  obtaining  a 


312  LOOKING    FORWARD. 

home'  ;  this  was  the  burden  of  their  cry.  What  it  really 
meant  was  this  ;  their  occupation  of  "drawing"  interest  and 
clipping  coupons  had  received  a  set-back,  the  first  it  had 
ever  known.  Now,  their  power  to  sell  land,  or  anything 
else,  "on  payments"  at  an  exorbitant  price,  "draw"  interest 
for  a  series  of  years,  often  in  amounts  greater  than  the  value 
of  the  property  sold,  and  then  on  the  appearance  of  the 
usual  panic,  caused  by  the  concerted  withdrawal  of  loans 
and  credits,  foreclose  and  seize  the  land,  or  other  property, 
to  be  "  sold  "  to  the  next  comer  who  could  be  induced  to  bet 
against  their  control  of  the  money  market.  That  game  had 
come  to  an  end.  Hence  the  disturbance. 

Poor  people,  for  themselves,  were  not  specially  dis 
mayed,  for  even  those  who  had  lost  their  farms  were  now 
able  to  rent  one  for  less  than  they  had  formerly  paid  in 
interest,  taxes  and  insurance.  Rents  fell  with  the  price  of 
land.  Business  was  good.  Exchanges  were  freely  made 
and  "  trading  "  brisk.  Any  man  could  get  work  at,  good 
wages.  Public  improvements  were  everywhere  projected, 
warrants  circulated  freely  from  hand  to  hand,  and  as  the 
interest  drain  upon  production  had  largely  ceased,  more 
money  circulated  among  the  people  than  had  been  the  case 
for  years.  Even  the  poor  man,  who  wished  to  do  so,  could 
now  save  a  little  money. 

Although  a  furious  effort  was  made  in  the  newspapers 
to  influence  public  sentiment  against  the  new  legislation,  it 
miserably  failed.  It  was  too  plainly  in  the  interest  of 
speculators  and  investors.  Evidently  they  were  the  only 
people  dissatisfied.  They  had  brought  on  the  boom.  If 
caught  in  their  own  trap  no  one  outside  their  ranks  felt 
specially  responsible  for  the  situation.  And  thus  the  matter 
stood. 

But  the  investors  were  energetic  people  and  well  sup 
plied  with  brains.  Something  must  be  done !  If  thrown 
upon  their  own  resources  they  could  at  least  make  shift  to 
rid  themselves  of  the  worst  features  of  their  present  condi 
tion.  Even  though  the  opportunity  for  profit  had  gone 


LOOKING    FORWARD.  313 

glimmering,  they  could  at  least  save  themselves  against  loss. 
So,  after  much  talk  and  many  conferences,  which  included 
leading  men  throughout  the  State,  what  was  called  "A  New 
Deal  "  was  published,  as  agreed  upon.  Substantially,  the 
scheme  was  as  follows :  The  speculators  were  to  divide 
their  offerings  of  land  into  small  tracts  suitable  for  homes, 
of  about  $1500  valuation.  Of  farming  land  this  would 
cover,  generally  speaking,  from  40  to  80  acres.  These  small 
tracts  were  to  be  "  rented "  to  suitable  families  making 
application;  the  "rent"  paid  to  be  one-tenth  of  the  valu 
ation,  annually  for  ten  years.  The  owner  of  the  land  to 
execute  an  approved  bond  to  deed  to  the  renter  the  tract 
thus  u  rented "  at  any  time  upon  the  payment  of  the  ten 
annual  installments  ;  the  rent  paid  to  be  and  remain  a  lien 
upon  the  land.  If  a  renter  failed  to  pay  his  rent,  the  owner 
of  the  land  to  be  able  to  eject  him  during  the  month  of 
March  following  his  failure  to  pay ;  arbitration,  and  not  a 
suit  at  law,  to  determine  the  resulting  damage  to  either 
party.  As  no  interest  could  be  collected  upon  payments  of 
''  rent,"  at  the  earnest  solicitation  of  the  large  land-holders 
and  for  the  purpose  of  further  protecting  "the  renters,''  the 
(Governor  and  most  of  the  members  of  the  legislature 
promised  to  favor  the  passage  of  a  law  at  the  next  session 
exempting  from  taxation  small  homesteads  "rented"  under 
the  the  terms  of  "  The  New  Deal/' 

The  effect  of  this  was  wonderful.  It  being  noised 
abroad  that  every  family  possessed  of  a  few  hundred  dollars 
could,  in  Kansas  under  the  new  laws,  in  a  few  years  be  able 
to  acquire  a  sufficient  portion  of  the  earth's  surface  for  self- 
support,  which  could  neither  be  taxed  or  taken  away  under 
any  circumstances,  attracted  to  the  State  world-wide  atten 
tion.  Even  in  foreign  lands  men  and  women  were  intensely 
interested  in  this  new  step  toward  the  enlarged  and  greater 
freedom  for  oppressed  humanity  thus  secured.  A  very 
large  immigration  to  the  State  was  the  immediate  result. 
All  the  immigrants  brought  more  or  less  money,  and,  what 
was  of  vastly  greater  importance,  a  new  hope  filled  them 


314  LOOKING   FORWARD. 

with  the  spirit  of  endeavor.  The  conditions  prevailing  were 
such  that  all  were  able  at  once  to  begin  the  production  of 
values.  Added  to  the  previous  very  general  prosperity,  all 
this  made  Kansas  and  its  people  happy,  indeed.  Once  more,, 
the  very  name  was  an  inspiration.  Once  more,  Kansas  led 
in  freedom's  march  !  Free  Land  and  Free  Exchange  were 
partially  secured! 

"The  investors11  were  able  to  "rent"  all  their  land 
without  trouble  and  so  great  was  the  desire  to  possess  a  free 
home,  and  so  hungry  is  humanity  for  land  freed  from  the 
demands  of  those  who  desire  to  eat  bread  in  the  sweat  of 
other  men's  faces  that  large  numbers  of  dejected  and  almost 
hopeless  people  heretofore  considered  "  shiftless,"  lazy  and 
improvident  in  the  extreme,  submitted  cheerfully  to  many 
privations  when  once  more  able  to  hope  in  the  future 
opportunity  of  escaping  from  the  control  of  other  men. 
Even  the  happy-go-lucky  negro  of  slavery  days  would  fight 
like  a  devil  for  his  freedom  when  once  he  had  a  clear  oppor 
tunity  of  obtaining  it. 

Of  course  it  was  recognized  that  benefits  so  far  received 
were,  and  could  be,  only  partial  and  local  in  their  effects ; — 
the  conditions  prevailing  in  the  nation  at  large  preventing 
full  success.  And  yet,  those  who  were  in  possession  of  free 
homes  and  had  in  some  measure  succeeded  in  freeing  them 
selves  from  the  burdens  formerly  imposed  upon  production, 
and  exchange  had,  in  these  things,  come  near  securing  that 
free  access  to  nature's  bounties  which  will  finally  enable  the 
poor  and  the  weak  to  escape  from  the  exactions  of  the  rich 
and  the  strong. 

If  the  cities  have  favored  positions  and  peculiar  privi 
leges  let  the  people  most  benefitted  pay  for  what  they,  only, 
enjoy;  if  corporations  and  "  property  "  demand  "protection'* 
and  an  army,  let  them  tax  themselves  for  what  they  desire! 
Let  them  stop  stealing  from  the  poor,  and  the  poor  will 
never  threaten  or  harm  them — have  never  done  so,  as  a. 
class,  in  all  the  history  of  the  world!  Fear  is  the  sure  sign 
and  evidence  of  wrong;  men  who  fear  the  mob  bear  evidence 


LOOKING    FORWARD.  315 

of  having  wronged  it,  as  men  who  fear  God  usually  have 
good  reason  to  do  so.  If  wealth  and  power  and  position 
demand  "stronger  government"  let  them  pay  for  the  bauble. 
Decent  men, — not  to  speak  of  Christians, — should  be 
ashamed  of  present  methods,  which  in  most  crafty  and 
indirect  manner  tax  production  and  exchange  in  such  a  way 
as  to  force  poverty  unknowingly  to  pay  for  the  luxuries  of 
the  rich. 

But  the  people  of  Kansas,  for  the  most  part,  were  now 
able  to  live.  They  could  no  longer  be  starved  into  submis 
sion.  Meantime,  and  until  national  measures  of  relief 
should  come  into  play,  they  could,  now  that  they  were 
partially  free  from  rent,  interest  and  taxes,  take  Senator 
Plumb's  advice,  u  live  within  themselves  "  and  wait  for  the 
opportunities  of  the  future. 

Some  of  the  reforms  effected  were  these  :  Taxes  were 
very  much  reduced  and  county  government,  in  particular, 
condensed  to  the  merest  skeleton  of  what  it  had  been. 
Township  and  municipal  government  took  its  place.  The 
New  England  town  meeting — the  Swiss  Initiative  and 
Referendum  practically — furnishing  the  model.  People 
governed  themselves,  as  their  grandfathers  had  clone,  almost 
without  cost.  The  abolition  of  all  laws  for  the  collection  of 
debt  had  largely  done  away  with  courts,  lawyers  and  court 
expenses.  In  all  ordinary  cases  of  misunderstanding  and 
difficulty  between  citizens  arbitration  was  made  compulsory. 
The  rich  and  the  contentious  were  unable,  as  formerly,  to 
terrorize  the  timid  and  the  peacefully  inclined  with  the 
disaster  of  a  suit  at  law. 

A  general  uniform  system  of  State  education  was 
established,  known  locally  as  "  the  barefoot  schoolboy  law." 
The  State  undertook  the  education  of  every  child ;  each 
pupil  drawing  from  the  proceeds  of  State  taxation  the  sum 
often  dollars  per  annum.  This  paid  the  total  running  ex 
penses  of  most  schools.  Districts,  towns  and  counties  de 
siring  to  do  so  could,  of  course,  tax  themselves  additionally. 


316  LOOKING   FORWARD. 

Hopefulness  ruled  the  hour.  What  the  toiler  earned, 
he  was  able  to  keep  and  all  looked  forward  with  the  greatest 
confidence  to  that  "  good  time "  sure  to  come  in  the  not 
distant  future. 


During  all  this  time  Maitland  had  been  incessantly 
engaged.  He  was  called  for  from  every  point  of  the  com 
pass,  and,  like  the  trusty  soldier,  was  ever  found  in  the 
thickest  of  the  fight.  Several  times  the  forces  opposed  had 
seemingly  been  on  the  point  of  gaining  a  victory  and  thus 
delaying  the  final  and  inevitable  result,  but  each  time  his 
splendid  powers  and  matchless  oratory  had  turned  the  tide. 
Hopeful  and  buoyant,  his  speeches  rang  with  good  cheer 
and  that  hope  and  confidence  in  final  victory  which  encour 
aged  and  inspired  success. 

At  the  time  of  which  I  write  he  was  in  Iowa,  engaged 
in  the  work  which  had  employed  all  his  powers  since  his 
first  effort  at  Branchville. 

The  following  letter  written  by  him  at  that  time  will 
explain  itself: 

DES  MOINKS,  IOWA,  -  — . 

REV.  MR.  ELLERY. 

My  Dear  Friend: — As  you  are  aware,  we  have  gained  a 
great  victory  and  have  now  secured  for  Iowa  the  legislation 
which  has  resulted  in  so  much  good  to  Kansas.  But  we 
have  only  just  begun,  and  much  remains  to  be  done.  Our 
enemies  taunt  us  with  destroying  credit  and  say  that  we 
have  made  it  impossible  for  private  parties  to  obtain  large 
amounts  of  money  for  great  and  necessary  works  of  public 
utility.  This  is  doubtless  true,  and  from  my  standpoint  is 
not  the  least  of  our  victories.  Let  us  make  it  impossible! 
For  great  works,  the  nation,  the  State,  the  county  or  the 
municipality  must  in  future  take  the  place  of  private  and 
irresponsible  corporations  and  companies.  At  present,  many 
of  these  are  our  masters.  In  a  republic  the  people,  in 
theory,  rule.  Let  us  not  rest  until  this  theory  has  been 
reduced  to  practice,  for  in  no  other  way  can  we  escape  that 
taxation  without  representation  against  v/hich  our  revolu 
tionary  fathers  rebelled.  The  money  power,  the  railroads 


I.OOKINC,  FOKWAKM. 


and  the  trusts,  tax  us  freely  ;    we  are  without  representation 
on  their  boards. 

Let  us  rebel ! 

Uut  I  sat  down  to  write  for  another  purpose.  I  am 
coining  down  to  see  you  again.  From  what  you  write,  I 
hope  to  receive  a  different  answer  from  Mary  Grafton  from 
that  given  me,  now  some  years  ago.  I  felt  terribly  repulsed 
at  the  time,  but  it  was  the  answer  I  should  have  been  given. 
I  ought  to  have  known  better.  As  sure  as  you  live,  though, 
I  think  her  influence  has  made  a  man  of  me.  But  I  will 
not  bother  you  with  the  thoughts  of  a  man  in  love.  You 
may  expect  me  on  Saturday  the  loth. 
As  ever,  yours  truly, 

M  AITI.AM). 


ft: 


LOOKING    FORWARD. 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

CONCLUSION. 

T  is  now  nearly  ten  years  since 
our  readers  were  introduced  to 
the  people  of  Plaiuville.  Many 
changes  have  taken  place  and 
all  our  old  friends  show  plainly 
the  passage  of  time.  Mr.  El- 
lery  had  been,  for  some  years,  occu 
pying  the  debatable  ground  between 
middle  life  and  old  age.  Now,  the 
matter  had  been  decided  for  him,  and 
it  was  clear  that  he  was  no  longer  young.  But  age,  with 
him,  while  frosty,  was  yet  kindly.  To  meet  him  was  a 
pleasure,  to  know  him  a  benediction,  and  to  be  near  him  an 
assurance  of  high  thoughts  and  noble  impulses.  In  the 
troublous  times  through  which  they  had  passed  he  had 
never  failed  to  speak  clearly  and  plainly  upon  the  topics  of 
the  day.  All  knew  him  to  entertain  the  most  radical 
opinions,  and  yet  his  utterances  had  been  tempered  with  so 
great  and  plain  a  love  for  all,  in  every  station  of  life,  that 
none  dared  take  offense. 

Mrs.  Ellery, — dear,  kind,  motherly  soul, — had  changed 
but  little.  Life,  to  her,  was  a  pleasure.  Long  years  before 
she  had  learned  the  truth  that  self-seeking  surely  ends  in 
loss  of  that  happiness  for  which  all,  without  exception  seek. 
That  our  love  can  create  happiness  in  others  and  that 
its  reflection  upon  ourselves  is  absolutely  the  only  source 
we  have  of  true  and  lasting  pleasure,  she  had  mastered. 
What  wonder,  then,  that  she  was  happy  and  beloved?  With 
no  thought  of  self,  she  had  devoted  herself  to  the  distressed 
and  forsaken.  None  appealed  to  her  motherly  heart  in  vain; 
the  sorrows  of  all  were  her  sorrows,  and  in  their  joys  she 
rejoiced.  Though  pinched  by  "  genteel  poverty  "  herself, 
she  had  opened  wide  her  door  and  her  heart  to  Mary  Grafton 
and  the  motherless  boy,  at  the  time  of  their  greatest  need. 


l.oOKINt,     FORWARD.  32! 

But  she  had  been  repaid  by  the  love  of  children,  more  fond, 
mayhap,  than  that  of  her  own  might  have  been. 

Mary — our  Mary — now  a  beautiful  young  woman  of 
twenty-five,  still  taught  in  the  village  school.  She  had 
always  been  the  pride  of  Plait iville,  but  since  her  father's 
tragic  death  had  been  adopted  as  the  daughter  or  sister  of 
every  loyal  resident.  With  a  pleasant  nod  for  all,  she  yi-t 
maintained  that  calm  equipoise  of  manner  which  betrayed 
what  she  could  not  hide, — the  superior  soul.  How  much  of 
Mr.  Ellery's  radical  stand  for  truth  was  due  to  her  influence. 
could  not  be  determined  ;  psychology  and  philosophy  as  yet 
are  but  words  used  for  the  concealment  of  thoughts  which 
take  hold  upon  the  verities  of  life.  Much  remains  for  which 
wc.rds  afford  no  expression. 

And  she,  herself,  whence  did  she  derive  that  superiority 
which,  without  a  word  from  her,  impressed  itself  upon  all? 
The  daughter  of  her  father,  were  the  hopes  and  aspirations, 
which  in  him  had  been  but  as  the  shadow  of  power,  recreated 
in  her  to  blossom  and  bloom  with  a  fragrance  and  beauty 
which  compelled  that  of  which  he  only  dreamed  ? 

Or  was  her  life  her  own,  and  is  each  vital  spark  but  a 
flame,  whose  source  is  the  Eternal  Light,  which  must  needs 
take  character  from  the  mortal  body  upon  which  it  tempora 
rily  depends  ? 

Charlie  was  now  a  bright  boy  of  twelve.  His  sister 
had  exercised  over  him,  as  she  had  promised,  a  mother's 
care,  and  with  such  a  mother  and  such  a  household  as  that 
in  which  he  found  his  home  he  could  not  be  otherwise  than 
obedient  and  affectionate. 

Plainville  was  "looking  up"  the}''  said,  New  buildings 
were  appearing  on  every  hand  and  an  era  of  thrift  and  sub 
stantial  improvement  seemed  setting  in.  No  large  and 
pretentious  brick  and  stone  palaces,  constructed  with  bor 
rowed,  capital  and  covered  with  mortgages,  to  pamper  the 
pride  and  eat  and  corrode  the  substance  of  the  builders, 
were  attempted,  but  better  yet,  the  modest  dwellings  of  the 
residents  began  to  show,  by  here  a  coat  of  paint  and  there 


322  LOOKING    FORWARD 

an  added  room  or  a  new  "piazza,"  the  solid  and  substantial 
progress  of  a  people,  who,  having  learned  the  hatefulness  of 
borrowed  finery,  were  resolved  henceforth  not  to  spend 
money  before  they  had  it. 

Upon  the  receipt  of  Maitland's  letter,  Mr.  Ellery  re 
solved,  like  the  true  and  loyal  friend  he  was,  to  learn  from 
Mary  the  probable  result  of  the  suit,  which  he  had  written 
he  should  again  resume.  Of  course,  Mrs  Ellery  was  to  be 
the  medium  through  whom  the  desired  information  might 
be  obtained.  Reading  the  letter  to  her  he  said: 

"  Don't  you  think  you  ought  to  acquaint  Mary  with 
the  substance  of  this  letter  and  learn  from  her  George's 
probable  answer  ?  This  would  save  them  both  some  embar 
rassment,  and  possibly,  pain. 

"  Perhaps  so,"  said  she,  "  and  yet  I  dislike  to  appear  to 
intrude.  Affectionate  and  loving  as  she  is,  no  one  would 
ever  know  the  secrets  of  her  heart  unless  she  sa\v  fit  to 
reveal  them." 

"True  enough,  but  I  know  George,  now,  intimately. 
I  have  been  his  confidant  in  this  matter,  you  know.  He 
means  just  what  he  says,  and  it  occurs  to  me  that  as  his 
friend  I  should  make  an  effort  to  save  him  a  possible  refusal. 
Aside  from  the  claims  of  friendship,  the  gifts  we  have  re 
ceived  from  him,  surely  call  for  at  least  the  effort  to  serve 
him.  '  And  as  we  are  not  called  upon  to  exert  any  influence 
we  may  possess,  but  simply  to  find  out  the  state  of  her  mind, 
it  does  seem  that  you  ought  to  make  the  attempt." 

"  It  does  seem  strange  that  we  are  obliged  to  ask  her, 
and  that  we  have  no  idea  what  her  answer  may  be,''  said 
Mrs.  Ellery;  "  and  yet,  when  we  think  of  her,  as  she  is,  we 
know  that  she  would  sooner  die  than  reveal  by  a  look,  a 
feeling  which  she  might  wish  to  conceal." 

At  the  next  favorable  opportunity,  Mrs.  Ellery  said  : 

"  Mary,  Mr.  Maitland  will  be  here  on  Saturday  !  " 

"Will  he?  Well,  now  we  shall  hear  the  story  of  the 
Iowa  campaign.  Wasn't  that  a  grand  speech  at  Fort 


LOOKING  FORWARD.  323 

Dodge  ?  Even  the  Register  could  not  refrain  from  words  of 
praise." 

'  Yes,  it  was  grand  just  to  hear  it  read,  but  to  have- 
heard  him  deliver  it  must  have  been  impressive,  indeed. 
But,  Mar}*,  he  is  coming  to  again  ask  you  to  marry  him, 
and  both  Mr.  Ellery  and  myself  are  anxious  to  know 
whether  you  have  another  refusal  in  store  for  him,  or  not." 

Mary  blushed,  but  her  eyes  were  stead}',  as  she  said  : 

"  Has  he  requested  you  to  ask  for  him  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed,  he  has  no  idea  of  such  a  thing,  but  our 
wish  is  to  save  you  both  possible  annoyance  and  pain. 
That  is  all.  I  am  sure  nothing  would  have  induced  me  to 
speak  as  I  have  if  I  did  not  know  that  you  had  once  refused 
him." 

Mrs.  Ellery  said  no  more.  She  knew  Mary  too  well  to 
add  anything  to  what  she  had  said.  Mary  was  silent ;  her 
eyes  sought  the  floor  and  only  the  clasping  of  her  hands, 
one  with  the  other,  revealed  the  emotion  within.  At  last 
she  said,  speaking  very  slowly : 

"  Mr.  Maitland  is  a  man  whom  I  respect  and  admire. 
Let  him  speak  for  himself." 

That  was  all,  and  although  Mrs.  Ellery  remained  in 
an  expectant  attitude,  the  subject  was  not  again  alluded  to. 

Speaking  to  Mr.  Ellery  of  the  matter  afterward,  she  said: 

"  Mary  is  a  wonderful  woman;  she  treated  the  matter 
as  a  queen  might  have  done ;  gracious  and  cordial  though 
she  was,  she  yet  reserved  her  thought.  Of  this,  though,  I 
feel  sure  :  George  need  not  fear.'' 

Saturday  came  at  last,  as  looked-for-days  have  ever 
done,  and  with  it  the  expected  arrival.  Mr.  Ellery  was  at 
the  depot  and  warmly  greeted  his  friend.  On  the  way  to 
the  parsonage  many  hands  were  to  be  grasped  and  hearty 
greetings  exchanged,  for  Maitland  had  now  become  not 
only  a  noted  man  but  a  general  favorite.  "  Uncle  Bill  " 
grasped  his  hand  with  a  terrible  squeeze,  saying: 

"  God  bless  you,  Mr.  Maitland,  for  what  you  have  done 
and  for  what  I  believe  you  will  vet  do! " 


324  LOOKING  FORWARD. 

And  as  Maitland,  for  the  moment  engaged  in  conversa 
tion  half  a  dozen  others,  who  gathered  to  speak  a  word  of 
welcome,  he  said,  sot  to  voce,  to  Mr.  Ellery :  "I  take  back  all 
I  once  said  to  you  agin  him,"  indicating  Maitland  with  an 
inclination  of  the  head;  "he  is  a  royal  man,  if  he  is  a 
preacher,  and  now  I  sha'n't  say  a  word  agin  his  carrying  off 
our  favorite.  Poor  Grafton,  I  hope  his  daughter  will  be 
happy  !  She  is  a  splendid  woman  and  the  man  that  gets 
her  will  have  a  treasure,  sure." 

Arrived  at  the  parsonage,  Mrs.  Ellery  kissed  the 
traveler  as  she  would  have  greeted  a  son  and  appeared  over 
joyed  to  see  him,  but  as  Mary  gave  him  her  hand  her  usual 
self-possession  failed  her,  she  blushed  deeply  and  the  tell 
tale  color  overspread  her  face.  Presently  she  recovered, 
and  the  conversation  became  general  regarding  the  Iowa 
campaign  and  the  wonderful  success  which  had  followed  the 
efforts  of  the  "agitator,"  as  now  he  was  willing  to  be  called. 

Mr.  Ellery  was  so  much  interested  in  the  details,  as 
related  by  his  friend,  that  he  did  not  notice  that  Mrs. 
Ellery  had  left  the  parlor  where  they  sat.  Casting  his  eye 
toward  the  open  door  he  saw  his  wife,  who,  standing  where 
she  was  only  to  be  seen  by  him,  stood,  beckoning  him  to 
follow  her.  Excusing  himself  as  best  he  could,  in  a  few 
moments  he,  too,  departed. 

How  it  came  about  he  never  could  tell,  but  no  sooner 
had  the  Ellerys  left  the  room  than  Maitland,  seating  him 
self  by  Mary's  side,  took  her  hand.  She  did  not  withdraw 
it.  Emboldened,  he  placed  his  arm  around  her  and  drew 
her  head  upon  his  shoulder.  The  ready  tears, — her  mother's 
legacy, — came  into  her  eyes,  but  he  kissed  them  away  as  he 
clasped  her  to  his  heart.  Whispered  confidences  and  sweet 
embraces  followed  in  rapid  succession.  How  long  they 
were  thus  employed  neither  knew,  when  Mrs.  Ellery,  with 
much  rattling  of  doors,  returned  to  summon  them  to  supper. 
Rising  to  his  feet,  Mr.  Maitland  said : 

"Aunt  Ellery,  allow  me  to  present  the  future  Mrs. 
Maitland!" 


LOOKING    FORWARD. 


325 


Mrs.  Ellery  could  scarcely  keep  back  the  tears  as  she 
pressed  her  foster-child  to  her  heart.  "Ah,  children,"  said 
she  "  you  don't  know  how  happy  I  am  for  you  !  God  bless 
you  both!" 

But  little  remains  to  be  told.  At  the  time  of  the  mar 
riage,  which  occurred  shortly  after  Maitland's  return,  the 
elder  Maitland,  now  advanced  in  years  and  thoroughly 
proud  of  his  gifted  son,  came  to  Plain ville,  entreating  his 
old  friend  Ellery  to  return  to  Massachusetts  with  him, 
offering  to  place  him  in  comfort  for  the  rest  of  his  days. 
But  the  old  preacher  would  not  listen  to  it.  "  I  have  put 
on  the  harness,"  said  he,  "  and  I  shall  die  at  my  post." 
Not  to  be  balked,  however,  the  other,  saying  that  he  wished 
to  have  the  privilege  of  subscribing  to  the  "  cause,"  settled 
$500  a  year  upon  his  old  friend,  which  was  regularly  there 
after  paid. 

John  Busteed  had  been  convicted  of  a  crime  and  sent 
enced  to  the  penitentiary,  but  his  father  secured  a  pardon 
for  him  and  established  him  in  business  in  Idaho,  where 
report  says  he  is  "  doing  better." 

Charlie,  although  the  little  fellow  scarcely  knew  what 
to  make  of  the  turn  affairs  had  taken,  was  completely 
assured  by  his  sister,  who  said  :  "  You  have  n't  lost  any 
body,  have  you,  dear?  You've  only  gained  a  big  brother," 
(glancing  shyly  at  Maitland),  "  and  he  is  just  as  good  as  he 
can  be,  too! " 


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